Peter Cottontail Hops Through Helena

It was quite gratifying to hear my son say that some of his best holiday memories are of Easter. I say gratifying, because, at 14 it is reassuring to know he still fondly remembers those times; that they have not been permanently erased by the onerous ‘teen gene.’ The bunny brought no cute baskets this year, however, Jane did make one for each grandchild in arts & crafts activities at her nursing home. The pastel plastic ducks brought smiles even to the faces of the twenty-something siblings!

The most memorable Easter surprise at our house was several years before Shelby was born, so he does not remember the year that Jane used real dyed eggs for their hunting pleasure. A few weeks later, I spotted some strange wiggling shapes emerging from under Chauncey’s bed. It seems that the forgotten egg stash had been invaded by maggots, which were now hatching and sent me from the room screaming!

Shelby was good-natured about the three eggs I hid for him in the back yard, just for old times sake. Jane also dyed these at the home. They will have to top the compost pile soon, though, as I cannot see our household indulging in maggot therapy. (Yes,Virginia, there is such a thing! They are introduced into wounds, where they eat the dead tissue and secrete healing antibiotics.)

So somehow I forgot to take photos of my own that day.
Above is a selection of cutest basket-carriers at a nearby egg hunt,
plus Jane in her Easter Bonnet.

All photos copyright Laura Brookhart, Qwerty Design Studios, 2009

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