I don’t believe in supernatural beings. I don’t believe Jesus died on the cross for my sins.
But I’m thankful for the Christian traditions that have given me Easter. I love Easter.
I love decorating with Easter-inspired decorations. Bunnies, eggs, flowers. Strange, I know on so many levels. Symbols of spring and rebirth – in our season of autumn!!! Rabbits are such noxious pests in Australia.
I loved all the decorations my mother did growing up. I hope when I go to Germany, I will be able to find some authentic German Easter decorations. Doubtful, I know, as it will be the wrong seasons. I also loved colouring and decorating hard boiled eggs when we were growing up. My Oma was the master egg blower. Not for her hard boiled. You could hardly find the hole through which she blew out the contents.
Growing up, we would get Easter gifts. Normally things we needed coming into winter – new PJs, new slippers – and a book. Always books. I still give little needed gifts to my sons. This time undies!
Laid out on the decorated table, it just adds a bit of specialness to the year. And so much better than getting a packet of undies tossed at you.
I love hot cross buns. The traditional ones with fruit. Not chocolate ones. They’re just chocolate muffins with a cross. Not apple and cinnamon. Come on. They’re a travesty. At a pinch, I can have the traditional-looking ones without fruit bits. I confess, while I do eat them on Good Friday, I don’t only eat them on Good Friday. I eat my fill a few weeks before and a week or two after Easter, and then that’s it until next year. But on Good Friday, we eat lunch them together as a family. Well, Mr S and I do, kid-ults not generally being up.
I love chocolate eggs. Red tulip bunnies are my fav. I loved the chocolate chicken on a basket I used to get as a child. I love little eggs. Ever since I can remember, you have to smooth out the foil covering of the little eggs and make a ring or a wine glass. It’s mandatory, don’t you know. New is my love of MnM crunchie eggs. New because we didn’t have them decades ago.
I love the family roast lunch on Easter Sunday. Numbers are dwindling, as cousins grow up, but with family visiting this year from the US, we still have a full table to enjoy Mr S’s roast lamb.
Mr S and The Dreamer have their own annual tradition of going to The Royal Easter Show. Dirty Boy and I don’t usually go to The Show. Tacky. Crowded. This year, I went to The Show. We took our US visitors. Spent hours there. And loved it. The district displays. A bit of wood chopping competition (which I never see anywhere else, but can’t miss if I go to The Show.) Animals. Dog show. Horse riding and tricks/competitions. Spent heaps on things I never knew I wanted, let alone existed, but once seen, simply had to have. Like this electric massager and necklace with the moons from my birthdate and both of my sons’.
Like everyone, we finished at the showbag pavilion and compulsory annual purchase of the must-have-every-year-even-if-we-haven’t-eaten last-year’s-lot Bertie Beetle bag.
“Where’s my Ninja bag?” asked Dirty Boy when we got home. Since getting one from Nanna as a kid, it remains the most loved one, full of plastic crap and a few lollies and something to inflate to hit your brother with. “Sorry, they didn’t have them anymore.”
Normally Easter falls towards the end of the school term, a week or two before term breaks up. The public holidays are much appreciated. Ahhhh, rest. We sit and relax while other maniacs rush up the highway for the traditional camping trip. “Ha! We’ll have holidays soon. We don’t need to be stuck in the highway parking lot. We’ll eat and read and rest over Easter and go exploring in the break.”
Except this year, Easter fell in the school holiday break. We feel a bit ripped off. No extra long weekend. And horrendous traffic during our holidays!!! With visitors from the US, we broke our usual rule of NOT venturing out in our car over Easter, and did a day trip to the Southern Highlands. This time of year is perfect for exploring and picnicking.
Thank you, Christians. I love Easter.