Easter

I don't know when I started to like Easter so much. I think it definitely started after moving to the Cape. Perhaps it's that the winters here are so quiet (which is a good thing) and then just as the crocus and daffodils begin to open, life here gathers a momentum that creates a lot of internal excitement. It's time to celebrate with your friends. And what is more charming than Easter? I've become a total sucker for the pinks, yellows, and baby blues. The little chicks, bunnies and, eggs, which you will not see in any photos because I didn't realize I was having Easter until yesterday and I didn't have time to pull out all the stops. I would like Easter to last a month.

The menu this year was the following: roasted potatoes with cumin & garlic; a lobster, leek, asparagus quiche; a spring green salad with Cara Cara oranges and sweet & sour dressing; tangerine & Cara Cara scones, and a large fruit salad. Coffee, juice, mimosas, Bloody Marys. Everything blended perfectly.

In my last minute shopping spree, last night at 8, there wasn't a daffodil to be had. Usually my Easter table contains a large bouquet of ranunculus, but they disappeared about 2 weeks ago. I never laid hands on one bunch. I had this smart little faux moss basket that I thought would be sweet filled with a few dozen daffs. Alas, I settled for sunflowers and I think it worked out nicely.

Everyone stayed the perfect amount of time leaving me to drive around, in vein, looking for pansies. Then I drove to the beach to see if I could spot the right whales who descend upon us each spring. We are very lucky in this regard. Right whales are very rare. Only 300 are left on the planet. Last year we had almost a third of the population visit us. I went to Herring Cove to check it out. The parking lot was full. I could see their spouts blowing in the distance. No flukes though. Still magical. I keep forgetting to put my binoculars in the car.

Then back home to enjoy the rest of my Easter Sunday without newspapers. I'm going to make chocolate chip cookies for my neighbor. He trimmed my yews. I didn't have the heart to tell him that as soon as I get some money, I'm having the yews pulled out and I'm building gardens. He loves the lawns, he loves the yews. This may as well be the suburbs, not the beach. While David was here he discovered that I have a lilac bush in the mess next to my driveway. I want a bunch of them. And hydrangea. I want a grape arbor.

I had this dream about a large house in some place like Romania. It was a friend's family house. In the foundation walls were these large niches set in deep all around the perimeter of the building. In each niche was a garden. They held a combination of herbs, vegetables and flowers. I distinctly remember one that had pale green cabbages banked by lovely dusty pink snapdragons. I thought it was the most beautiful arrangement. In fact all the gardens were a light green and dusty pink or rose. I'd love to recreate them out front. But truth be told, what will be is lusty, bright red tomatoes, dark green basil, Russian sage, a host of other herbs, and the flowers still need to be planned. There will be many spring bulbs planted (she swears), some annuals for persistent color, and other stuff that I hope my brother-in-law helps me figure out. I know I need violets, hostas and lilies-of-the-valley in the back. Ah, garden dreams I hope will come to fruition.

So, bless spring and all the hope that comes with it.

Another Year

I had a birthday this month. I was convinced this year would be better than last year. Time will tell but it's not looking promising. Ollie is not growing into the loving, little companion I expected him to become. His bad habits: biting, barking, and not allowing you to do anything but pay attention to him have become too much. I thought I'd find him a new home, a place where he'd get a lot of attention and exercise. So after soul searching and soul searching, I made the decision to part with him. I found him a home with a good friend which would ensure that I'd still get to see him. Three days passed and I received a woeful phone call. At the end of it I said, "So, when do you want to bring him back?" and without missing a beat my friend said, "Tomorrow!" It's Ollie's looks that save him. He is so darn cute. He also loves people, loves dogs, loves the car, and basically has many good traits. He's just too alpha for me.

For my 3 days without him, I fell in love me my home and all its prospects again. It's not settled yet. I still have boxes that I have not unpacked, mostly because I have no where to put stuff. So it's a work in progress and I enjoy that. When I woke up and Ollie was gone I thought how easy it would be to keep the house clean. No more torn toilet paper rolls, ripped NY Times, food kibbles scattered across the kitchen floor, no more stuffed animal parts with white batting rolling over the living room like tumbleweeds. But he's baack as Jack Nicholson would say.

Though it may snow tomorrow, Spring is in the air. Leaves have popped out on the hydrangea outside my office. Daffodils and crocuses are blooming; it's staying light out until 7. All these things give me hope. On the other hand, I have 4 dozen unplanted daffodil bulbs in my garage, no money to start gardening, trees that need to be removed and a host of other projects I'd like to work on. It's fun to look forward to them, but accomplishing them alone isn't so much fun.

This weekend is Passover. I will miss the Seder. People will be going dry-shod surrounded by lamb shanks, bitter herbs, and hard boiled eggs and I'll no longer singing all the songs I worked so hard to learn. I miss being an honorary Jew. I won't miss the brisket. One year I made Passover. My sister gave me what she considered the BEST recipe for brisket. I bought so much of it that you would have thought I was feeding a congregation. There were 5 of us and one was a vegetarian. After that, I never really wanted to see brisket again. But I deeply miss the charoset. I suppose I could make some, then eat it by myself as I sing Dayenu to myself or G_D.