Sunday, April 12, 2009

Easter Day 2009

Smelling of incense and lilies, I came home from St. Peter's Episcopal Church in Ashtabula, Ohio to get ready for my daughter and her boyfriend; they were coming to brunch at 2:00. I knew they would be late, because that is her wont. That particular trait is probably genetic, handed down from her mother. In 26 years of marriage, I remember that her mother was on time twice. She was late for our wedding.

The steaks were ready, the Elise salad had been prepared the night before, Mrs. Smith's apple pie was waiting to be sliced, and a 3 day old blue cheese cheesecake was ready for the knife. My friend, Enrique, had cleaned the condo, so I just had to finalize the 'vittles' and set the table.

About 5 minutes before 2 p.m. the phone rang, announcing that my daughter would be late. I was grateful for the time; I was running behind.

As I finished my chores, the door opened and my daughter appeared by herself. Her friend had begged off, claiming that he did not feel good. Just as well.

The blue cheese cheesecake became victim to our crackers and glasses of wine. While the steaks grilled on the balcony, we rapidly diminished the size of the cheesecake.

The timing was good. As soon as the Elise salad was eaten, the red skinned rosemary potatoes came out of the oven, the steaks came off the grill, and we dug in.

Because my daughter was scheduled to work at 5:00, we skipped dessert but chose to fill her Easter basket with Malley's chocolates, colored eggs, Ronald Reagan type jelly beans, a chocolate bunny, and some ham that had been left over from the AGAPE meal at church the day before. A couple of cupcakes were tossed in for good measure. She was off and running to change into her work clothes; I hurried to get the dishes into the dishwasher and then scooted off for a much needed nap.

When I woke, I polished off a piece of pie a la mode, watched a bit of drivel on BBC, read that Captain Richard Phillips had been rescued, found that the Cavaliers had thumped the Celtics, and saw that our weather the next few days will be inching us into Spring.

I have been inspired by a friend to begin blogging.

It has begun.


  1. I need to know how a biology major became a writing instuctor. Theater critic I can understand, Little Theater was a huge part of our lives.

    That can be your next blog.

    Welcome to blogging. It is addictive.

  2. That was so beautifully written. I could practically smell the steaks and wanted to reach for the chocolate bunny! Thanks for giving us a look into your Easter day. Oh, and the whole being late thing, I think it is in my family genes too. ;)