Here comes Peter Cottontail…hoppin’ down the bunny trail. Hippity-hoppity, Easter’s on its way…
I’ve been humming that old tune all morning. HOPPY Easter!
Easter Sunday here in Park City is 66 degrees and stunning!
As John and I get ready to make our version of a holiday feast, memories of Easters past fill my mind. When I asked John about his family’s traditions, I happily discovered that they were very similar to my own. There’s something magical about imagining both of us as children, experiencing the same holiday on different sides of the country, decades before we’d even met.
John’s family spent Easter morning in church, and then the family would gather at his home in Connecticut. There was a massive egg hunt, which included colorful plastic eggs with chocolate inside- or a folded-up $5 bill, if you were lucky. The traditional Howe family Easter supper was a ham feast, with potatoes and peas. And always lots of deviled eggs. What’s Easter without deviled eggs?
My family’s Easter traditions were basically the same. After church, we’d head to my grandparents’ house, where there would be an egg hunt for me, my brother, and my cousins. We’d find all sorts of things in our plastic eggs, including folded-up cash, OR- the big winner– a California lottery ticket. I’ll never forget my Grandma rushing over to whichever confused child held up the scratch ticket, excitedly helping us scrape away to our potential fortune with a nickel. We did a big ham dinner, too- my favorites are the potatoes that cook away in the yummy ham juice. Corn or peas alongside, and always some dinner rolls (which my Grandma burned each time, just like on Christmas).
The most notorious Easter memory I have is more recent. A handful of years ago, my dad looked at a big plate of deviled eggs and said to me, “Amber, I’m in my 60s and I’ve never tried a deviled egg! If you eat one, I’ll eat one.” It was like a dare.
Cue ominous music.
Not only did I eat one, but I adored it. So I ate another one. And another one. I’m not sure how many deviled eggs I consumed that year, but before long, the plate was empty…and I felt utterly horrible. That was the year I ate a handful of Tums instead of ham and pouted at the dinner table while the rest of my family enjoyed Mom’s delicious Easter feast. The big joke now is that my consumption must be supervised. Because I still love them!
We won’t be doing a big ham feast this year, not for just the two of us. But I just decided that I should make a few deviled eggs. You know, for tradition and all. Because what’s Easter without deviled eggs? (I’m pretty sure I’ve got Tums in the bathroom cabinet.)
Hoppy Easter to you!
What are your Easter traditions? Do you have any notorious holiday memories? Share!