I remember Easter with fondness. Me and my brother with our baskets full of stuff. My mom and dad loved to, well at least I think they loved to, hide eggs for us to hunt out. The first Easter I recall, I was 5 and my brother about 10. We each had matching jeans with applique on the bell bottoms with matching hats for some reason and big grins on our silly faces. We lived in Maryland at the time and I'm sure we were a sight. Goofy red head boys soon to be strung out on sugar.
One year we had an Easter Egg hunt that had us hunting all over the yard. Well, we didn't find them all. And, these were real eggs, mind you. One of the lost eggs was hidden by the back door on the backdoor light. It went unnoticed for some time until it started smelling. Then it didn't take long to find. That was a hoot.
So, this year, our little girl gets her first real taste, a small taste, of Easter. No egg hunts, palm fronds or sugar, but she did get the little basket and some harassing from the dog. Christine filled Dylan's basket up with dried fruits and fresh strawberry's and cutie oranges. It was a pretty little basket, even after it spilled out on to the sidewalk. Question is: Did Maggie or Dylan get more of the fruit?
One thing that Dylan has that we didn't is the nifty little vintage coat, perfect for Easter. Christine and I found this shopping at a vintage store in Spokane on one of our many trips across the state to visit friends or on our way to Montana. We found all kinds of cool old stuff for the girl before she was born including this adorable coat.
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