Happy Easter!
[NOTE: This is a repost from Easters past. But it still works for me.]
Happy Easter to all my celebratory Christian readers, and to all those who just enjoy the holiday as well!
One year when my son was little, I spent the week prior to Easter blowing out eggs and dying them. Now that he’s grown and away, the eggs are packed away in boxes and stored in parts unknown. If I could get my hands on them I’d photograph them for you, because even all these years later they are beautiful, with dyes both subtle and unsubtle, interesting etched patterns and rainbow effects—definitely one of my finest crafts hours (to tell the truth, I didn’t have so many fine crafts hours, although there was also a gingerbread house we made that was stored in the attic and alas, eaten by small creatures–and not human ones, at that.)
Blown-out eggs are well worth the trouble, and why? Because they last. And nothing eats them. You only have to make them once, and you’re all set. They are a bit fragile, but not so very.
So here’s my Easter present to you (not that you couldn’t find the information yourself)—some instructions for blowing eggs, from a link that has disappeared since I first wrote this post:
First, you’ll need to make a tiny pin hole on each end of the egg. A pin works well, or a wooden kitchen skewer or even the tip of a sharp knife. Gently work the tip of the pin/skewer/knife in a circular motion until a tiny hole appears. Repeat on the other side. Then insert the pin or skewer (the knife will be too big here) far enough into the egg to break the yolk. Use your mouth [blow] to expel the contents of the egg.
And here is a more complex–but perhaps better–way, for those obsessive-compulsives among us.
These aren’t mine, but they’ll have to do as substitute:
Easter was noted in my family when I was young, and one year an ambitious pastor at Holy Sacraments Lutheran Church staged quite a show to dramatize the crucifixion and coming back from death, with the lights going out, crashes of cymbals and loud cries by some actors. (I think this took place of the evening of Good Friday.)
I remember coloring Easter eggs, and chocolate bunnies, but I have no memory of going on any hunts for hidden eggs — though it seems like maybe my younger sister did.
Thanks for the instructions, Neo. Gut Pesach to you and all your Jewish readers; and Happy Easter to all who celebrate the Resurrection, and to everyone who enjoys the special day as welcoming Spring.
My family did the egg hunts, but strictly the candy varieties.
I get a kick that “Jesus Christ Superstar,” the musical, is still going strong.
When I was little my family would often celebrate Easter with family friends, often in a park, where the egg hunt could spread out over a wide area. One year while I was looking, I found a live rabbit sitting under a bush. Very exciting. (I didn’t disturb it.)
Anyway, one year some friends brought their friends, who were from Argentina. They introduced us to the custom of cascarones — hollowed out eggs, dyed, and then filled with confetti (and you can seal them with a bit of tissue paper if you want to be fancy). The thing to do with the finished egg was to crack it over someone’s head.
Later I would often hollow out eggs and just dye them and decorate them. As you say, they are less fragile than one might imagine, so they do last nicely.
We used to make cascarones. You can also fill them with perfumed water, which we didn’t do. Good activity for kids, because the results are seldom of heirloom keepsake quality.
I need to do a better job of the Jewish high holy days. So I can wish them can them well.
https://www.hebcal.com/holidays/2019-2020
Fortunately they publish calendars. So they make it simple for us knuckle dragging gentiles. Thank you, Jews, for speaking to us slowly in one syllable words.
Wfeith much love, thank you neo, for treating me to beauty of ballet. If I could tell you of the ugly of what a 30 caliber bullet can do to a human head, I wouldn’t.
I wasn’t exactly trained by Gunny Hathcock. I was at least briefed by himn.
http://www.proguns.com/springfieldarmory-m25whitefeather.asp
Get his rifle.
https://i.imgur.com/o4b2O.jpg
My Lord is the Prince of Peace
I like all believers sometimes doubt. I had lost my wallet. It was nowhere. Maybe you can imagine the panic. I spent hours looking for it. I decided to to give it up to God. I was about to pray. Then I told myself, I blaspheme. I still have my passport and a credit card. Get over yourself, I tells myself. God has more important things to worry about than your silly wallet.
Then look down and what do you know?
I thought of your mouse story, neo.
It’s always in the first place you look, isn’t it.
I bet your husband gets angry at you when it’s not there.
I was a good intelligence officer.
First, realize you’re a man.
Second, your wife is right.
The way he looks at me, Romeo tells me I’m sending him mixed signals. Yes he’s a dog.
First tell me you’ve read Hounds of the Baskervilles.
The Hound of the Baskervilles.
I was hunting to clear things up and my keyboard jammed me up.