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A quote: “It is the hour to rend thy chains, the blossom time of souls.” ~~ Katharine Lee Bates
I’ll start with a story …
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There was the spring announcement that a crisis dictated the restriction of sales of all eggs to commerical entities only.
Maryann’s suspicions where cemented in year three when she tried to order a stuffed bunny and was screamed at by a clerk who kept glancing around with frightened eyes.
She should have seen this coming after all the years of accepting each tiny erasure of Easter.
“I’m just another boiled frog,” she thought. This was her year one. Sunday sunrise with her grands, hand sewn bunnies, egg-shaped cakes and readings from her own grandma’s Good Book.
No more a frog.
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license
Politically Ambidextrous says: As the sun set on Easter Sunday, Karen pondered what to do with the bowl of beautifully decorated eggs.
Nobody in the family liked hard-boiled eggs. With the egg shortage, it seemed sinful to waste them.
She could peel them, cut them in half, and mix the yolks with mayonnaise, salt, pepper, herbs, and spices. This delicious mixture could be put in a pastry bag and decoratively squeezed into the waiting egg white halves. A bit of paprika would be a nice touch.
But making “deviled eggs” out of Easter eggs just seemed wrong.
Egg salad seemed the better option…
Dupin says: Deacon John asked me if I loved Jesus. I said no.
“Of course you do.”
“He took Mommy away. If he loved me, Mommy would be here. She loved me.”
“She’s in a better place, dearie.”
“No, she isn’t. She cried and said she wanted to stay with me. Help me grow up. But he took her…if he even exists.”
“Of course, he exists.”
“You said he answers all prayers. He didn’t answer my one prayer. He doesn’t love me, or he doesn’t exist.”
Now I can’t hunt Easter eggs, but they’ll pray for me. That probably won’t work, neither.
Reggie Waite looked at the calendar. How could Easter have sneaked up on him like this?
He knew the answer — up here on the Moon, seasons were just dates on the calendar. Pressurized habitats were kept at a steady 75 degrees, whether the surface overhead was baking in the fortnight-long lunar day or freezing in the equally long night. And with the work involved in taking in an endless stream of Expulsees, it was far too easy to lose track of everything but the immediately essential.
But people needed holidays and celebrations to stay sane and healthy. Nothing to do but call in Shepardsport’s heads of Agriculture and of Food and Nutrition, and ask them the vital question: how can we have something resembling an Easter dinner with the resources we have on hand?
There was no question in his mind that the traditional Easter ham was Right Out — even miniature pigs were too big to be brought up here — but maybe those two could come up with an adequate substitute.
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