The kids got to dye eggs twice, once with Daddy and once with Grandma. Here they are with Sarita.
Easter weekend included a funeral for my great aunt Mary. She was elderly and very ill, so it was expected. I'll miss that tiny spitfire of a woman. Here the kids are with my cousin Jeff.My dad's side of the family is all buried in Emhouse, Texas, regardless of where they lived. It's a nice, quiet cemetery in a town of population less than 200. My grandfather was born there and my grandmother grew up in neighboring Corsicana.
We spent the night with Adam's cousins, the Myers' family. Here are Claire and John after Easter lunch.This was the first Easter in recorded memory that didn't feature a visit to a church. Usually Adam and I pick one of the family's churches out in East Texas to attend, but this year we slept in and just enjoyed spending time with family. We're at church 51 weeks out of the year, so I think it's okay to miss one. We did talk some about the resurrection, but not making each other get up early to attend church where we don't know a soul and just consciously taking the day to relax, was awesome.
Claire and Paul hunted eggs on the same yard that Sarita hunted eggs on when she was a kid, and that Adam and his sisters hunted eggs on when they were kids. I guess you could call it the Barton homestead.
Adam and I had very different childhood experiences with Easter. His family apparently boiled and dyed eggs, hunted them, and then threw them at one another. There was no refrigeration or consumption of boiled eggs. My family, on the other hand, boiled and dyed eggs, hid them, and then ate them. We went with Adam's tradition this year. It resulted in some stinky, runny eggs and some ants. We did have fun throwing the eggs on the street in front of Adam's uncle's house, however.
Here's a car driving past our cracked, rotten eggs.
This Easter was focused on relaxation and family. I think we might have started a new tradition.
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