Easter falls behind us, the left-over ham and macaroni and cheese disappearing quickly from our fridge. We go to spring fling and both children collect easter eggs until I tell them we cannot possibly carry anymore. The boys help DJ, and we stop for Easter-dinner-groceries on the way home.
Easter Sunday the sun shines bright and the cool shade breaks up when it pale spring light falls on our shoulders. The kids get seeds and gardening tools in their Easter buckets, and they dig in their Easter finery to plant cilantro and spinach under the dirt. We walk across the street where wisteria drips so I can take their "Easter pictures," which they only consent to under bribery involving candy.
Here's the truth about these pictures: to our left, a pitbull sits patiently growling behind his chain-link fence, while two more bark at us from their pen a short distance past the purple blooms. Behind us, the boys laugh while another pitbull pulls at his chain. But if we dont know all that, this certainly looks like a lovely field somewhere in the country. Proof, again, that beauty finds a way in all the most unexpected places.
As a side note, all hair skills pictured here can only be attributed to my friend Danielle. I feel certain I need a third hand if I am to be expected to braid hair.
Now it's spring break, and we find ourselves without big plans, no matter how desperately I want to slip away to the beach with just our little family for a few days. Adam normally leads a small discipleship group early Monday morning before school for a few boys we've known for years. They are on spring break too; I assume that means sleeping past noon, but they insist on 6:45am, and who are we to argue? Their departure wakes both my own children, despite my grand visions of them sleeping in until at least 7:30.
Also, my kids are the cutest in all-the-land, let's just not argue about that ok?