Easter Traditions
Apr. 16th, 2006 08:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ellyssianBrandon and Rachel woke up early this morning, and communicated with Justin using an elaborate system of knocking on the wall and whispering sekrit messages. Something was Up, and it was not Deb. I got dressed, convinced Rachel and Brandon that the moaning was not Justin complaining about not waking up, it was Deb, and they needed to get in there and help get her out of bed.
Once that mission was *not* accomplished, despite threats of picture taking, we convened to the top of the stairs where there were three baskets and two trails of foil-wrapped chocolate eggs leading down the staits. Brandon picked up his plastic egg and put it in his basket as the other two followed their trails down - with Deb joining us before we descended.
I barely brought Brandon down to the bottom of the stairs before the kids had finished their trails to the end. A clue for each pointed them outside and directed them to search for eggs of particular colors; Brandon's egg directed him to gather up all the larger eggs. A separate note addressed to Deb and me told us the eggs were outside, that the older kids had twelve each, and Brandon had ten to find.
The kids went out after getting their jackets from the hall closet, and hunted. Brandon found his first - of course, they were less hidden than scattered about the front lawn. Rachel was next, and then tried to help Justin find his. In the end, it took all of us to find his very last egg. Once done, we went back in, and the kids hung their jackets back up in the hall closet. Why, no, there's no reason I keep explicitly mentioning this hall closet bit, why do you ask?
Justin and Rachel sat down at the table and opened up their eggs. The clues were in the form of letters that spelled out the location of the loot the Easter Bunny left behind: H A L L C L O S E T. So, yeah, Justin noticed it when they got their coats; Rachel noticed it when they put their coats back. Ooops.
Dinner was ham, fresh and smoked kielbasa, mashed potatoes, and corn. Incredibly delicious. When I got out of the shower, the aroma of the almost-ready meal reached me, and it reminded me of the smell of my mom's parents house on Easter. I think of Easter as more of a Polish holiday than a religious one - the traditions I associate with it, from the kielbasa to the egg fights, are those of my mom's family. We've added our own touch, but those are the ones at the core, and I associate them with my grandfather. Kind of silly, they're as much Lithuanian as Polish, some more so than others, such as the scratched onion-skin dyed eggs, or the fact that my grandmother was the one who cooked the Easter dinner that always smelled and tasted so delicious.
We went to Deb's dad's after dinner for, erm, more dinner. Brandon took a bad fall on the sidewalk, wound up with a largish goose egg on his forehead, scratches on his nose and knuckles (the last is a rather good sign - he almost caught himself.) Once home, we proceeded to the egg fight.
I quickly established myself as the champion loser - having quickly lost four eggs in as many attempts. Due to a counting error, I bowed out temporarily, and then jumped back in after finding that I had a few eggs left with which to compete. Alas, they were not contenders, although I one a few skirmishes, I ultimately lost all but one battle, and, in the end, retained my lack-of-title. Justin was the champion, with the only undamaged egg.
Once that mission was *not* accomplished, despite threats of picture taking, we convened to the top of the stairs where there were three baskets and two trails of foil-wrapped chocolate eggs leading down the staits. Brandon picked up his plastic egg and put it in his basket as the other two followed their trails down - with Deb joining us before we descended.
I barely brought Brandon down to the bottom of the stairs before the kids had finished their trails to the end. A clue for each pointed them outside and directed them to search for eggs of particular colors; Brandon's egg directed him to gather up all the larger eggs. A separate note addressed to Deb and me told us the eggs were outside, that the older kids had twelve each, and Brandon had ten to find.
The kids went out after getting their jackets from the hall closet, and hunted. Brandon found his first - of course, they were less hidden than scattered about the front lawn. Rachel was next, and then tried to help Justin find his. In the end, it took all of us to find his very last egg. Once done, we went back in, and the kids hung their jackets back up in the hall closet. Why, no, there's no reason I keep explicitly mentioning this hall closet bit, why do you ask?
Justin and Rachel sat down at the table and opened up their eggs. The clues were in the form of letters that spelled out the location of the loot the Easter Bunny left behind: H A L L C L O S E T. So, yeah, Justin noticed it when they got their coats; Rachel noticed it when they put their coats back. Ooops.
Dinner was ham, fresh and smoked kielbasa, mashed potatoes, and corn. Incredibly delicious. When I got out of the shower, the aroma of the almost-ready meal reached me, and it reminded me of the smell of my mom's parents house on Easter. I think of Easter as more of a Polish holiday than a religious one - the traditions I associate with it, from the kielbasa to the egg fights, are those of my mom's family. We've added our own touch, but those are the ones at the core, and I associate them with my grandfather. Kind of silly, they're as much Lithuanian as Polish, some more so than others, such as the scratched onion-skin dyed eggs, or the fact that my grandmother was the one who cooked the Easter dinner that always smelled and tasted so delicious.
We went to Deb's dad's after dinner for, erm, more dinner. Brandon took a bad fall on the sidewalk, wound up with a largish goose egg on his forehead, scratches on his nose and knuckles (the last is a rather good sign - he almost caught himself.) Once home, we proceeded to the egg fight.
I quickly established myself as the champion loser - having quickly lost four eggs in as many attempts. Due to a counting error, I bowed out temporarily, and then jumped back in after finding that I had a few eggs left with which to compete. Alas, they were not contenders, although I one a few skirmishes, I ultimately lost all but one battle, and, in the end, retained my lack-of-title. Justin was the champion, with the only undamaged egg.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-16 06:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-16 06:39 pm (UTC)If you win, but have taken damage on one side, it only takes one successful hit to win your egg.
Champion is the last one with at least one side of an egg undamaged.
Finesse - a light touch - wins over brute force. Brute force tends to always get your egg smashed, even if it would otherwise have been stronger.
My grandfather used to test the eggs by tapping them against the teeth. He would test ours, let us know which were stronger, which were weaker. He was often right.
If you don't cover up all but the very poles of the egg, a less honest or more enterprizing attacker might not strike dead center, where the egg is stronger, but off to the side, almost ensuring a win.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-16 08:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-17 05:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-17 10:09 am (UTC)