Below is a favorite Easter memory repeat I wrote about Robin and I. Coincidentally, she wrote an Easter memory on her website yesterday. Most spare internet time will be spent working on Robin's new template. Happy Easter to those friends who celebrate Easter. And a Happy Sunday to those who don't!

Easter Reflections
My first Easter memories involve my sister (2 years younger) and I when we were quite small. There was the anticipation of buying a fancy, new Easter dress, with crisp white cotton gloves. And, equally important, fancy, new shoes to match.

I still remember a favorite pair of pink patent leather shoes with bows that I'd rub together, even during solemnly quiet church service , just to hear them squeak. If we'd fuss and whine a little extra, we might get a new handbag or hat with matching grossgrain ribbon that hung down our back. And I might get to paint my stubby, chewed-to-the-nub fingernails for the occasion as well.

Sunday School during the Easter season was spent making crosses from pop-sicle sticks and yarn. And writing Bible verse John 3:16 in glue on construction paper, then sprinkling glitter on it, to proudly display in the Church's main hall. After church, the obligatory eggs-traordinary Easter egg hunt. Right after a huge ham spread at Grandmother's house. Pictures snapped all around. A perfect Easter indeed. With all the trimmings a little girl could possibly want.

But I never did get a blue (or pink, or orange, or green) chick for Easter.

A local grocery store sold colored baby chicks in a pen with heat lamps during the Easter season. They had been dyed different colors and we'd all have our favorite one picked out. All the kids begged their parents for a blue (or pink, or orange, or green) chick at Easter. But I never really knew anyone who actually got one. PETA and other animal rights activists might take a dim view of dyed baby chicks nowadays.

I recently ran across one of those old Easter photos while cleaning out my grandmother's old photos. Probably one of the last ones that featured us in all our Easter finery. Robin and I were posed for posterity in my grandmother's yard and we were about 14 and 16 years old at the time. Smirks firmly planted across our smart-aleck faces tell you this is the last time you'll get dresses on these two tomboys who'd rather be in blue jeans fielding grounders.