Easter recollection

[designerotter]

In my childhood I recall Easter Saturday dedicated to coloring Easter eggs, using those dye kits produced by PAAS since … since forever. My mother would have a series of empty jam jars lined up on the kitchen table, one jar for each of the color tablets supplied with the kit. She also taught me to place a flatware knife blade under each jar as

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[holy13nation]

My parents grew up in the North East of England. My paternal grandfather and great grandfather were pitman, miners. As were my uncles. In fact, my grandad had broken his legs so many times in accidents down the pit he had to come down stairs on his butt. He died of pneumoconiosis. My lovely Uncle Pat lost most of his fingers beneath the wheels of coal carts. My father and mother moved down to Yorkshire but we would always visit at Easter. Three was a local tradition. Egg jarping. Once the eggs were dyed with food colouring the game began.

It's a one-on-one, knockout tournament. One player holds their egg firmly in their hand with the pointed end uppermost. The second player brings their egg down, so the pointed ends connect, in a movement known as a "dunsh". No runups - feet on the ground please.

If either egg is cracked after the first jarp, the unlucky player is eliminated. If both eggs remain intact, swap places and keep jarping until one egg gives way.

The victor. That is the bearer of a perfect, undented egg, while others are scooping up broken bits of shell from the carpet.

My grandfather could be a little scary even when crippled. He had also been a bare knuckle boxer, was a hard drinker and was the kind of good Catholic whose religion was usually just fuel for an incendiary temper.

Jarping with him was one of the few times he allowed loose the warmth hidden in his character.

It remains my abiding Easter association.

[designerotter]

Thank you so much for sharing this! - it's such a rich memory, and you've given it a context I know almost nothing about. (Alas, I'm poor on English geography - picturing Yorkshire as somewhere 'up north' …an impression I got from reading The Secret Garden.)
I'd never heard of 'egg jarping' before. I consider it a special gift to be given a glimpse into the celebratory experiences of a friend who comes from a background so different from my own.
Blessings on you - you've made my day.