Happy Easter, all!

After I received a comment from a cyber-friend that she still hid eggs for her teenaged sons (enjoy her blog here), we decided to do the same. Besides, I DO like to find them later in the year (we’re talking chocolate eggs, here — not hard boiled!).

For better or worse, that’s not quite my style.  The lamb is marinating, although not  in the full six cups of red wine that Julia Child recommends. I only had a handful of bay leaves, too — not the 37 or 40 that she specifies. Still, it promises to be delicious.

Something distracted me last night between cups two and three in my yellow cake preparations. I stood there wondering, “Should I add another cup or not?!!”  The worst of it is, I knew better!!  Otherwise, at Christmas time, I wouldn’t have asserted to a room full of friends at a cookie swap that I’d reached an age where I needed to measure ALL MY FLOUR IN ADVANCE.

Oh well.  The cake bombed. Sadly for my waistline, it is still pretty yummy and I will manage to consume more of it than I should.  The lemon squares, on the other hand, came out just right.

Given the situation with my sister, I have this opportunity to see how little today is about the food anyway.  It’s about occasion.  We will be transporting our meal to the rehab where she currently lives, and will share the time as a family — not worrying too, too much about the temperature of the food or the cake’s crumb or lack thereof.

It is a stunningly beautiful day here in Eastern Mass. Exactly the kind of day that could make one warm to the idea of rising from the dead.

One of these crosses is going to be for my friend Joan.  She loves Easter more than any other holiday and I am thinking and thinking of her today.