A Good Friday to you, too

I don't have a copy of it, but somewhere there's a picture of me with my brothers and sister on Easter Sunday, on the way to church no doubt, all dressed up in our new Easter clothes and hats and socks and shoes. My mom sounded a little disappointed last week when I had to answer that, no, we didn't have any new clothes that we'd be dressing in come Easter -- for her the connection between Easter and some new finery seems unbreakable. She definitely would have made and worn this golden number here, even with her hair like that; there is no question she led a more glamorous life than I. Adults spent more adult time, together as grown-ups and without the children around, back then, and had more opportunity to dress up (although there's no denying that the game was to impress each other). I can't imagine having a party and consigning Dean to the upstairs, leaving him to peek down the stairs at the swirling dresses and cigarette smoke and to hear the clink of ice in cocktails until being seen and being told to go back to bed. I just cannot imagine the adult side of that life.

A whirlwind couple of days ahead, getting ready, coloring eggs, cleaning up, going to the grocery store, fitting everything around soccer and hoping for a fruitful visit from the Big Bunny. I just hope the snow business stops here soon -- I just realized that there was NO snow around at Christmas time, and here we are at Easter and the back steps of our yard are still hidden under a mound of ice....