nostalgia
It has been one of those restless nights and they often lead to thinking way too much. This time however it led to lots of great memories.
I have been remembering all the past Easters and how much the things we do for it have changed.
All the time I was growing up, Easter meant a new outfit of Church Clothes. You know the ones I mean - the ones never worn except for something very special and often passed down in the family because they got so little use before you outgrew them. The part of the country I grew up in called for a spring coat as well. So you were taken shopping for this outfit. It was literally from the skin out. It required new ruffled socks, patent leather shoes,frilly slip, dress, coat,hat and if you were older, gloves. This applied to Mothers too. THey got a whole new outfit and also got a corsage for the day.
I always felt sorry for my brothers since they had to put up with getting fitted for a little vest, pants, bow tie etc. They always looked miserable on those shopping days.
It's funny, I can only remember one outfit and that was when I was a teen. I had a pink mohair sheath dress and a coat that had a white background with variegated shades of green loops of thread. I had gloves, white shoes and a white hat. I really thought I looked great.
When my niece came along it had become a more casual time and all she required was a new frilly dress for Easter. I remember spending days making a dress for her when she was about 14 or so. She had seen the material and picked out the pattern, so it was all her creation. She wore that dress until it was threadbare. I will never forget the look in her eyes when she put it on for the first time that Easter Sunday morning. It was a grownup dress and she knew just how beautiful she was in it.
Now times have become so relaxed that I made simple little sundresses for her 2 daughters while they were here for Spring break, which they won't be wearing on Sunday since it is still snowing there. Mom and I haven't bought anything new to wear for Sunday and there will be no corsage.
THere were so many cool things surrounding Easter.
I used to love getting the little colored chicks or ducks for Easter. I loved getting to pick them out and how soft and cheeping they were. I always wanted to get a rabbit -they came in such fun colors. Mom and dad knew that when the chickens or ducks grew out of the cute stage and we got bored with them that either of my Grandparents would add them to the ones at their farms, but a rabbit would not have been that easy to find a home for.
I can't imagine how my parents put up with all the mess and noise those chicks created; but it sure must have made for lots of headaches. Funny how the tradition may have faded out for humane reasons; but, just a couple of years ago I was in a feeds store near here and they had all these chickens and ducks for sale. I wanted to bring some home just to cuddle them again and then reality hit. I walked away sobered and sad- I could not bring a pet home and have someone else be responsible for it - I couldn't know the joyful abandon of a soft cheeping chick any more.
I also remember how ugly the poor chicks looked as their feathers began growing in to replace the dyed ones. They looked like they were poorly tie dyed. One year a rabbit had escaped form a neighbor or been released by someone near my Grandfather's. It took up residence under the corn crib and became Grandpa's favorite pet. It had been dyed blue and was so very ugly as the fur grew out. It lived a very long life protected by my Grandpa and that corn crib.
My Grandpa was a sap for his grandchildren and would let us do most anything, but he had one rule that would actually cause punishment if broken. You could not pick, touch or mangle in any way his spring daffodils and Easter lilys. THey were all started from ones the grew around his parents home before it burned down and he had a whole row of them that he tended lovingly every year. Knowing how much it killed me to not be able to pick them or take my teacher some of them; he would walk me through the woods to his parents old home site and we would pick some of the ones that still came up there each year. It made me sad when I became old enough to walk there and back by myself. Although I would go each year, some of the magic was gone from the trip. I often wish I could be there this time of year to see if the flowers are still coming up every year and to get some bulbs to start my own patch.
My Grandparents always made Easter Baskets for each one of us grandchildren. No easy feat that since there were around 24 kids there each Easter. We were always allowed to bring friends and that added to the number. THey also had an Easter egg hunt for us. So, being the oldest granddaughter, I got to help with things like making the Easter baskets, dying the eggs, and keeping the younger kids busy while the eggs were hidden.
I was always amazed at my grandmother's ingenuity. She came up with some of the most amazing baskets. Having a very limited income, she was always on the lookout for something that would work for Easter baskets. I remember the year a local dairy decorated their cottage cheese containers for Easter. I remember the smell of melting plastic when she and my Aunts heated an ice pick to burn holes in the containers for handles to be applied. They actually turned out pretty cool.
My Grandpa was a trickster and loved to play jokes on a couple of my older arrogant male cousins. Everyone had to find their Easter basket, each basket had an egg with the owners name on it. The baskets were hidden with greater difficulty as your age increased. My cousin David, bragged that he would be able to find his no matter where it was hidden. Well, my Grandpa overheard and made that basket his own personal challenge. He hid it on top of the chimney on the roof. Once my cousin finally spied it, he couldn't reach it because my Grandpa had hidden the ladder as well. Another year,this same cousin bragged a few weeks before Easter about being able to hit a boiled egg against his forehead to crack it to peel. His mom told him to stop and he laughed at her. So, yes, you guessed it, his egg with his name on it was raw and yes, you guessed it again, being all boy, he hit it against his forehead to crack it and we all laughed like crazy at his egg smeared face.
I sometimes feel sorry for my cousin's children and the young children of today. The times of family holidays like those have gone away and they will never have those great memories to fall back on. Of course, I could created them - wonder if the local feed store near my niece has chicks yet? I bet her 2 year old could give a chick or bunny a run for it's money. For that matter, my cousin Linda's little girl would probably like one too. Oh, could I ever wreak havoc in my cousin's lives.
Well, I have certainly rattled on long enough. Sorry for the rambling memories.
I have been remembering all the past Easters and how much the things we do for it have changed.
All the time I was growing up, Easter meant a new outfit of Church Clothes. You know the ones I mean - the ones never worn except for something very special and often passed down in the family because they got so little use before you outgrew them. The part of the country I grew up in called for a spring coat as well. So you were taken shopping for this outfit. It was literally from the skin out. It required new ruffled socks, patent leather shoes,frilly slip, dress, coat,hat and if you were older, gloves. This applied to Mothers too. THey got a whole new outfit and also got a corsage for the day.
I always felt sorry for my brothers since they had to put up with getting fitted for a little vest, pants, bow tie etc. They always looked miserable on those shopping days.
It's funny, I can only remember one outfit and that was when I was a teen. I had a pink mohair sheath dress and a coat that had a white background with variegated shades of green loops of thread. I had gloves, white shoes and a white hat. I really thought I looked great.
When my niece came along it had become a more casual time and all she required was a new frilly dress for Easter. I remember spending days making a dress for her when she was about 14 or so. She had seen the material and picked out the pattern, so it was all her creation. She wore that dress until it was threadbare. I will never forget the look in her eyes when she put it on for the first time that Easter Sunday morning. It was a grownup dress and she knew just how beautiful she was in it.
Now times have become so relaxed that I made simple little sundresses for her 2 daughters while they were here for Spring break, which they won't be wearing on Sunday since it is still snowing there. Mom and I haven't bought anything new to wear for Sunday and there will be no corsage.
THere were so many cool things surrounding Easter.
I used to love getting the little colored chicks or ducks for Easter. I loved getting to pick them out and how soft and cheeping they were. I always wanted to get a rabbit -they came in such fun colors. Mom and dad knew that when the chickens or ducks grew out of the cute stage and we got bored with them that either of my Grandparents would add them to the ones at their farms, but a rabbit would not have been that easy to find a home for.
I can't imagine how my parents put up with all the mess and noise those chicks created; but it sure must have made for lots of headaches. Funny how the tradition may have faded out for humane reasons; but, just a couple of years ago I was in a feeds store near here and they had all these chickens and ducks for sale. I wanted to bring some home just to cuddle them again and then reality hit. I walked away sobered and sad- I could not bring a pet home and have someone else be responsible for it - I couldn't know the joyful abandon of a soft cheeping chick any more.
I also remember how ugly the poor chicks looked as their feathers began growing in to replace the dyed ones. They looked like they were poorly tie dyed. One year a rabbit had escaped form a neighbor or been released by someone near my Grandfather's. It took up residence under the corn crib and became Grandpa's favorite pet. It had been dyed blue and was so very ugly as the fur grew out. It lived a very long life protected by my Grandpa and that corn crib.
My Grandpa was a sap for his grandchildren and would let us do most anything, but he had one rule that would actually cause punishment if broken. You could not pick, touch or mangle in any way his spring daffodils and Easter lilys. THey were all started from ones the grew around his parents home before it burned down and he had a whole row of them that he tended lovingly every year. Knowing how much it killed me to not be able to pick them or take my teacher some of them; he would walk me through the woods to his parents old home site and we would pick some of the ones that still came up there each year. It made me sad when I became old enough to walk there and back by myself. Although I would go each year, some of the magic was gone from the trip. I often wish I could be there this time of year to see if the flowers are still coming up every year and to get some bulbs to start my own patch.
My Grandparents always made Easter Baskets for each one of us grandchildren. No easy feat that since there were around 24 kids there each Easter. We were always allowed to bring friends and that added to the number. THey also had an Easter egg hunt for us. So, being the oldest granddaughter, I got to help with things like making the Easter baskets, dying the eggs, and keeping the younger kids busy while the eggs were hidden.
I was always amazed at my grandmother's ingenuity. She came up with some of the most amazing baskets. Having a very limited income, she was always on the lookout for something that would work for Easter baskets. I remember the year a local dairy decorated their cottage cheese containers for Easter. I remember the smell of melting plastic when she and my Aunts heated an ice pick to burn holes in the containers for handles to be applied. They actually turned out pretty cool.
My Grandpa was a trickster and loved to play jokes on a couple of my older arrogant male cousins. Everyone had to find their Easter basket, each basket had an egg with the owners name on it. The baskets were hidden with greater difficulty as your age increased. My cousin David, bragged that he would be able to find his no matter where it was hidden. Well, my Grandpa overheard and made that basket his own personal challenge. He hid it on top of the chimney on the roof. Once my cousin finally spied it, he couldn't reach it because my Grandpa had hidden the ladder as well. Another year,this same cousin bragged a few weeks before Easter about being able to hit a boiled egg against his forehead to crack it to peel. His mom told him to stop and he laughed at her. So, yes, you guessed it, his egg with his name on it was raw and yes, you guessed it again, being all boy, he hit it against his forehead to crack it and we all laughed like crazy at his egg smeared face.
I sometimes feel sorry for my cousin's children and the young children of today. The times of family holidays like those have gone away and they will never have those great memories to fall back on. Of course, I could created them - wonder if the local feed store near my niece has chicks yet? I bet her 2 year old could give a chick or bunny a run for it's money. For that matter, my cousin Linda's little girl would probably like one too. Oh, could I ever wreak havoc in my cousin's lives.
Well, I have certainly rattled on long enough. Sorry for the rambling memories.