We discovered that the Easter bunny in Grenada is not subject to any sort of quarantine! After my lengthy shopping day, that just happened to fall on the Saturday before Easter, I came home to children eager to color eggs. Thankfully I had boiled two dozen the day before and carefully stored them in the fridge with names on the boxes to be sure that I didn’t confuse them with the one box of raw eggs that I had put in the fridge for some reason. We try to keep our eggs out of the fridge to maximize fridge storage space but if I get them refrigerated, I try to keep them that way.
Paul colored eggs the American way for the first time (they paint little pictures on eggs with paint brushes in England, or at least they did when Paul was a child) and also discovered the joys of hunting for hidden eggs.
We all enjoyed hunting for eggs and baskets and, as usual, Cobin was the last to find his basket. Poor Cobin, after continuing to search while his sisters gobbled up their candy, said, “Why does the Easter bunny always put mine in the most difficult places? Doesn’t the bunny know that I’m the worst one at finding things?” It’s true – he is the worst one at finding things. Sometimes the Easter bunny is just mean.
Sometimes he (this year the bunny identified as Jeremiah – last year it was Matilda) plays mean tricks. As I mentioned previously, I was very careful to separate the boiled eggs from the raw ones, going so far as to label the boxes.
Tully was helping me peel eggs the next day for lunch and cracked one of hers. She said, “Oh, I think this one needs to cook longer!” I had a moment when I questioned my boiling skills but when I saw the raw egg coming out of the brightly colored shell, I realized other skills of mine were in question.
I looked in the fridge and found a 6-pack of egg-colored eggs that were labeled “Tully,” just like the box of raw Easter-colored eggs that were also in a box labeled “Tully.” As I’ve told the kids many times, if a supernatural creature can deliver presents/eggs/money for teeth, it can certainly duplicate a parent’s handwriting. Sure enough, this bunny wrote “Tully” in my handwriting on both a box of raw eggs and a box of boiled ones! I can’t think of any other explanation so I’m leaving it at that.
On a non-Easter related topic, Joe has been corresponding with a friend who just circumnavigated the world with his grown son. The friend’s son went home to get a job and the friend’s wife, who is not a big fan of sailing, has joined him. He is trying to convince her to stay on board to complete the long passage up to the US. Joe offered up this “rebranding” of sailing to help try to convince her:
It is not called sailing anymore, it is called Exotic Luxury Travel, perfectly safe, comfortable, and fulfilling. Proven to be the best method of avoiding the world’s pandemics. Get to know your spouse in deeper ways than thought possible through outdated, conventional methods like being within ten feet of him/her 24/7.
Necessity being the mother of invention, learn to fix just about anything and gain confidence as you solve “previously thought impossible” task after task. And if you get this far and are still alive, you will be in the small but elite group of Exotic Luxury Travelers that have reached Exotic Luxury Travel Nirvana.
That state of grace where your spouse cooks and cleans exactly like, what, and with the frequency you want him/her to. Better still, you never have to ask – it just happens. In addition, you get to float on the cloud of the sea with perfect winds, temperatures and sunsets for the rest of your life”
Like most of us seeking nirvana, I think Joe will continue to seek, but never find. At least not if I’m his spouse and have to cook and clean according to his unspoken desires!