The Leftovers

Although if I'm being honest, I actually whipped up these deviled eggs the Sunday before Easter and I don't have any hard boiled eggs as leftovers to use this week because I didn't dye any this year.  

And I would just like to state for the record that I actually remembered how to hard boil eggs this round.  Oh, I still called Momma Debi to make sure I had it right...but I told her the steps before she told me.  Win!  It only took years for my brain to put that into long term memory.  

Icing the eggs right out of the boil is the key to clean peeling, well in most cases it's clean peeling.  You still have to fight with a few and let those little suckers know who is boss.  It just wouldn't be fun if they all were easy now would it?

  

I made two different fillings for these eggs.  One was with the normal Miracle Whip, mustard, salt, pepper, and a splash of pickle juice all topped with paprika.  

The other one was more my style with Greek yogurt, mustard, salt, pepper, lemon juice, and more of a splash of pickle juice all topped with paprika.  

I thought they tasted real similar to the real deal and was happy with the experimenting.

My mom, sister-in-law, and I were visiting yesterday morning while eating toast about how once you start cleaning up cooking a bit with real ingredients, it seems your taste really does change.  It's all a process.  A process which still includes things like maple donuts and hot cross buns on Easter Sunday after eating "sour" deviled eggs all week leading up to the holiday.     

Easter of This Year

Sometimes things are so right and so good, they don't even need words.  Other than to say this Easter was just what the heart ordered. 

 

Early church service attended with fancy dresses and filled pews and afterward fellowship. 

 

Indulged too much in Momma Debi's homemade hot cross buns and Dad-o's egg bake while the warm morning light streamed in. 

 

Coffee sipped slow and steady long into the day. 

 

Robins spotted and welcomed with open arms as signs of this season's newness. 

 

An orange skirt's pattern - the end to sweaters and other cold weather fashion for good, thank you very much.  

 

Old home movies watched until tears were in our eyes, from laughing at my brother's Honky-tonk Man winning lip-sync kindergarten performance and my four year old rendition of reading Just for You by Mercer Mayor on a floral couch and tears of  a different kind from seeing people like Grandma Gladys making gravy in the kitchen on Thanksgiving of 1988 while Grandpa Norman read the paper in his gray recliner chair.  Both kinds kept rolling when it turned to that same Thanksgiving, only this time at Grandma Audrey's house with Uncle Tige being his usual ridiculous self and then Lacie and Lindsey holding hands and dancing on the carpeted kitchen floor while Matt wore necklaces and a goofy hat as he jigged across the screen.  Oh family is it.  The only thing, through the laughter tears and the different kind of tears too. 

 

Clothes changed and then the day was played away in the sunshine.  Baseball, foot races - a certain kindergarten boy beat the pants off his aunt, riding bikes, and giving horses treats learning the important lesson of keeping your hand.  Being tired from sunshine and wind is the best kind of tired.  I always feel something after a day outside; there's not a certain way to describe it...it's just something. 

 

Easter Sunday was so right and so good. 

 

On a serious note, take video of your loved ones and keep it safe for future eyes.  It's beyond precious to have, to see family and friends in action is much different than a still shot.  It will make your heart happy and your heart hurt all at the same time and it's a keeper of a different kind of memory.     

 



Becoming Real

I was sent this from a friend one night awhile ago, and I remember vividly pulling it up and reading through.  The first time skimming quickly not sure what I was seeing.  The second time with a sense of I need this right now, how did she know?  Because that one night awhile ago, I did need these words.  Needed them to resonate in my bones...

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.  "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt." 

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse.  "You become.  It takes a long time.  That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have been carefully kept.  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.  But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to those people who don't understand." 

It's from the Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams Bianco and it's devastatingly beautiful.

Real.  We are on a journey to becoming Real. 

And as I sat with one leg tucked underneath me and my Easter dress, I looked around at the scene unfolding around me. My family and my people, all in one place. With the nuances of bits and pieces of stories told here and there with laughter ebbing while birthdays were celebrated and socks were opened like they were the best gift ever. 



I took the scene in.  Deeply.  With my one mustard color tight wearing leg tucked underneath me and my Easter dress, I thought to myself - might have even closed my eyes for a brief moment - this is Real. 

It's Easter Sunday and this is my mine. 

Life is not perfect and there are minor curves in the road along with major road blocks thrown on random mile markers occasionally to make sure strength still shines, but "It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become." 

Slowly but surely, we become.  Into who we are when we are being the people we are meant to be.  Not the people we think we should be.  A pesky discrepancy. 

The best gifts ever might be socks wrapped tootsie roll style in yellow tissue paper, but the best times ever are the moments of rising.  When the living with the can be rough and the not fair isn't met with sharp edges, but rather is taken in and molded to fit into us.  To make us one step closer to better yet...to keep us being the ones our souls are meant to be. 

Devastatingly beautiful. 

This whole becoming Real is. 



You Can

"If you can organize your kitchen, you can organize your life."

Louis Parrish

If you can successfully boil eggs without having to ask your mom every single time about water boiling first or cool-cover on or off-how long should timer be set, you can... 

Make deviled eggs Easter morning. 

 

Deep huh? 

 

 

But here's where the secret comes into play, you can still successfully make deviled eggs on Easter morning even if you did call your mom late the night before asking the aforementioned questions.  Love a duck, if I could ever simply remember how to boil an egg!

 

Love the kitchen wisdom as well, I strongly believe an organized environment leads to organized mind.  

 

Ignore the notion my mind can't remember the routines for simple tasks such as boiling eggs.  I stand by it's organized.  How else could it handle over packing for airports and traveling and really everything? 

 

If you can send up one Dear Jesus and give a farm girl heave-ho and lift the suitcase into the overhead bin still, you have not packed too much. 

Wisdom from ME

 

Fruition

The day before Easter my sister-in-law and I did the final meal preparations and finished off the details for our celebration. 

Sometimes for us what that looks like is Sil doing slicing and dicing and other kitchen type things while I hot glue graham crackers together in an effort to see a hair brained idea come to fruition. 

Peep Houses 

Now looking at them I realize the icing would have been much more appropriate in a shade of green, as in grass.  Instead of the white I used, as in in snow.  But in all fairness to myself, I blame my environment.  You see this lovely nook of North Dakota I call home still has feet of snow blessing its landscape.  So snowy peep houses it was for us. 

At any spring or not springish rate, the littles were decorating machines and that is what matters the most.  Dinosaur attacking included. 

   

Then what happens next is I try to stay on task and whip up some banana Nutella muffins while Sil colors eggs with the crew. 

But I can't help but snap some memories between teaspoons of baking soda and powder because goodness those kids are full of it and you better not even try and tell Punky that she is too little to do anything much less handle the care of an egg all on her own thank you very much.

I'd like to think Sil and I make a good team when it comes to celebration meal planning and party executing but I know deep down she's really the force behind the spatula.  While I'm more of the flitterer.  It's a win for me as she lets me come along for the ride to see the fruition of her labors which tend to be much more delicious and far less hair brained than mine.

Although I did boil some eggs late that night to be deviled the next morning.  Boiling eggs.  Culinary difficulty at its finest.    
  



All Around

I think of God as someone, a friend even, sitting right next to me.  Pushing me.  Challenging me.  Loving me.  Forgiving me.  Rejoicing with me.  Grieving with me.  Accepting me.  Right next to me.  All the time.  

And on this Easter Sunday, the sun was shining and the evidence of His gifts was apparent through fellowship and family and the blue sky and the water rushing and the green grass emerging...all around.  Right there.  Next to me.  

Easter...A Week Later

I'm a week behind on the world right now, but today I am getting caught up...it's a must.  So, here are some Easter pictures a week late.  It was after church and I think we took every combination possible of Sister Pister, Mom, Dad-o, and myself.  Brother, Sil, and their kids were already off to their next celebration.  I even taught Dad-o how to run my camera and he was a quick learner which, if you know my father at all, you know he had to brag about it for a solid chunk of time.  I would like you to notice that we can all get cleaned up and spiffy because the next thing you will see us all doing will show more of our real sides.  

I started with Sister Pister to get things all set how I wanted them. 

 

Then, I attempted to throw Dad-o into the mix and this was the best picture I got.  The rest of these two are just plain ridiculous...as if this one is not. 

Mom told them to get serious and when Mom speaks, we all listen so it was smooth sailing from there on out. 

And then I tried to take a nice picture with my sister and apparently she was channeling Michael Jackson.    

Much better. 

After "Easter 2010 Photoshoot", we headed into town to meet up with Dad-o's crazy family.  I decided to just enjoy the day and not be the crazy picture taker.  Except this.  This I had to take a quick snap of.  Grandma Audrey with her newest great-grandson, George.  Precious. 

Well, I hope that one week ago you were able to be with your family and hopefully you even squeezed in a photoshoot as we all need those moments to be documented and remembered.