To My Nanny

I remember her hands almost always smelling like dough.

And homemade breakfasts every morning.

Baloney with mustard on Nannie’s bread.

It had to be Nannie’s bread, or it just would not do.

Her hands were always gentle, too.

She never pulled my hair when she combed it after bath time

and her hands felt nice running through it when she blow dried it.

They were warm and soft, like the rest of her.

Pleasant to hold on to, and always open to hold on to

When you’re sad, when you’re overtired, when you’ve scraped your knee or just need a cuddle,

Just like the rest of her.

droopy flowers

I love you, Nanny. You’ll always be with me.

Babies and Easter

Okay, I have to admit that I have always kind of despised people who dress up animals and babies in humiliating cute outfits. Honestly, there’s something wrong with putting a ridiculous outfit on something that does not even have the slightest power to resist the tight spandex or overpowering frills and embarrassing photographs that somehow manage to stick around for a lifetime. 

It’s the reason why dogs bite their owners and children rebel during adolescence. I’m sure of it.

Why Dogs Bite Their Owners Source: http://www.tanmonkey.com/fun/image002.jpg

 

HOWEVER.

I have a little bit of an exception to this pet peeve of mine, and perhaps I’m a little biased, but GOOD LORD LOOK AT MY ADORABLE NEPHEW.

My adorable little nephew being an Easter bunny

My adorable little nephew being an Easter bunny

 

I can hardly handle this.

Babies.

BABIES.

BABIES IN BUNNY EARS.

OH GOD IT’S TOO MUCH.

 

Easter Weekend

As I am about to be shipped off to Cape Breton for the long weekend and it is questionable whether or not I will have internet access, I thought I would blabber about Easter before I head out.

I have been going absolutely batshit mildly crazy with the absence of Spring. Come on, mother nature. I can’t handle this nonsense. One day the sun is shining, I can see little blue-breasted birds in the trees, I can feel the sun on my face and I want nothing more than to engage in reproductive activities,.

Then the next day there are ducks literally stuck frozen into the pond down the hill and the little buds on the tree turn into depressing, saggy frost lumps.

Not to mention my nipples. Fuck. Will they ever be anything more than hard, frozen ice-cutters?

Occasionally I have hope. Today was a beautiful start to the long weekend. Blue skies and sunshine are always welcome.

I’m looking forward to spending Easter weekend with my family and potentially having an Easter egg hunt.

And just to be clear, I’m not sure what point somebody said “Wow! Nothing celebrates the resurrection of Jesus like a milk chocolate spider man!” but I’m okay with gifts and Easter eggs as long as we also remember to celebrate the things that aren’t loaded with LDL cholesterol and artificial pastel colours.

 

I find hope in the fact that God sent us Jesus. He was here to remind us and teach us of God’s love for us, and even he faced struggles unimaginable to us.

I think that the pain he suffered on the cross was no less than any other man would have suffered. I think that it was extremely painful and scary for him. What is so important is that he kept his trust in God knowing that what God wants for him and  for all of us is good.

That takes a lot of strength, and a lot of faith.

Easter is when we celebrate his resurrection. After his death, his desciples were stunned. I mean really, a guy that you just spent a good portion of your life following was just killed. What would you think? I’m sure they were all like “shit. This is all over.”  But God did something pretty cool. He brought Jesus back for a bit to let people know that there is hope in this world and in Heaven. He wasn’t a ghost or a spirit or anything freaky like that, he was just straight-up Jesus.

I think that that’s because God knows we find it much easier to believe what is seen than what is unseen. He really wanted us to know that there is hope.

And Easter is pretty cool because it happens during Sunday, the beginning of a fresh week, in the Springtime, the beginning of a new year and new life and freshness. Hope and new things come after winter. It’s nice to be reminded of this.

It’s also nice to have Easter egg hunts with my baby cousins.

Easter eggs // Ostereier

Easter eggs // Ostereier (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I should note that I get extremely competitive during pretty much everything.

Monopoly: I drain the bank and cheat like a bastard if I don’t get me my railroads.

Jenga: I will do WHATEVER (and I mean whatever) is necessary to keep that tower from falling

Scrabble: blood has been shed.

 

Now when it comes to Easter egg hunting, there is nothing more than the excitement of finding a colourful little candy-filled delight in the bushes…

except finding all of them.

Now its one thing to go extreme egg hunting with my boyfriend who is easily the same weight as I am, a little faster but a little less agile,  a fair fight.

I pull his beard, he trips me, I grab him by the ankle so he falls over and I claw my way up to his neck to grab ahold.

Nothing deadly, it’s all fun and games, but maybe just to give him a bit of a scare.

We roll on the ground a little and I am closer to the neon yellow plastic treasure just in my reach.

I reach out but he grabs my arm and pulls it back, I bite his hand, he swears and bites his lip.

He overpowers me, he has me pinned. I can see the spit pooling in his mouth. He’s going to slobber on me. I become desperate. Final measures. My face goes blank and I go stiff. I catch him off guard. I hug him really close and tight, bring my face close to the side of his face and I use my ultimate weapon…

My tongue enters his ear.

He yelps like a kicked puppy and rolls off of me flailing and crying.

I am free to grab the egg.

I hold it high in the air with blood dribbling down my arm.

I am victorious.

It’s different when I have an Easter egg hunt with my cousins because, well, children are delicate.

Not a fair fight in the slightest.

I feel awfully bad when I have a basket full of colourful mini eggs and two children beside me with black eyes and bruised ribs from being punted across the back yard crying because they didn’t get a share in the Easter bunny’s treats.

It’s just not right.

So I suppose that while I pray for God to bless my little cousins and family and friends, I’ll ask for help in developing a little self-control.

That’s all I can really ask for.

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Thanks for reading! Happy Easter!