"Each year on the day of the spring equinox, ancient Saxons in Germany celebrated a festival for the goddess of springtime, named Eostre. Her earthly symbol was a rabbit. Rabbits and eggs were symbols of rebirth. Many Anglo-Saxons in England dyed eggs by boiling them with flower petals and leaves. Brightly colored eggs represented the bright sun of springtime." --From A New Beginning by Wendy Pfeffer
I want my kids to grow up with a solid grounding of the seasons, steeped and soaked into their very bones. We are lucky to live in a place with four very substantial, distinct seasons (okay, so winter does step on autumn and spring a bit). A couple of weeks before the anticipated shift--winter solstice, spring equinox, summer solstice, autumnal equinox--the first changing of the guard in our house is the introduction of these two books for the coming season:
The Shortest Day, A New Beginning, The Longest Day, and We Gather Together). There is a page on the solar system, and a few pages with crafts, experiments and activities.
We also read "God Gave Us Easter" (another grandma spoil) even though it makes no sense to my kids, because I feel they should know that story too. I do it with the same awkward hesitancy that my mom made us dress up and attend Easter service, the biannual church excursion of my childhood.
:: Anyway. Easter this year was a little hampered by the fact that I couldn't move my head. I woke up with a "kink in my neck" the Tuesday before Easter. By Thursday afternoon I found myself with NPR plugged into my ears, blasting over the magnetic THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP of an MRI. So while I had red cabbage, beets and tumeric just waiting to be turned into dye baths, we opted for the instamatic experience of grocery store PAAS and I didn't have to bend my head to chop cabbage.
Our town is tiny and doesn't have much going on, so when there is an event, we try to go. We hit up the annual town Hunger Games, I mean bloodbath, ahem, Easter egg race...hunt...doh!
^Before the fire siren.^ And after:
Hazel was inside with friends in the 0-3 room, Juniper outside with me on the 4-6 lawn. Juniper surprised me with her physical prowess. She was a regular Katniss Everdeen, leaping deftly to the middle, swiftly pouncing eggs, but courteously stepping back if another kid got there first. I thought the madness of it and the bigger kids would send her to tears, but afterwards she was red-cheeked, smiling and pumped on adrenalin. It lasted 60 seconds and this is the best picture I could get ^. Between the girl with the yellow dress and the boy with the purple shirt, you might see Juniper's red hairband and her basket on the ground. She made out with a good haul.
:: Easter morning. Another of the grandma (they have three) spoils was this basket for Juniper, which belonged to my paternal grandmother, and the rice-stuffed mouse with fur-lined ears she had made for my step-mom years ago. My grandma has been gone for twelve years, but I love that my kids can run their fingers over the same things she did.
:: The Hunt. Remember the crocheted eggs? They make an appearance every year, though I do need to make another batch for this second kid.
We had a pretty sly Easter bunny this year. Hazel often needed some pointers.
We always find the most precarious robin nests around our home. A lovely Easter surprise.
Do you see the egg?
True to Katniss Everdeen--Juniper helps her little sister. "Look Hazel! Over here! Come quick!"
The morning spoils. Hardboiled eggs, jelly bellies, chocolate bunnies, and some tiny knitted creatures.
One of the many, many ways in which these sisters are so different: Hazel eats her candy all at once (unless we intervene). Juniper saves hers (and then forgets about it).
Best Easter gift was Nana showing up that evening, loaded with Easter spoils and ready to bake, read, and pretend, pretend, pretend.
P.S. I know it's been almost a month and I still haven't posted pics from our coastal clamming vacation. You know me. It's coming.