Happy Easter to all!

The Dread Dormomoo has assembled the requisite calorie-laden celebratory fare for the kinder tomorrow, the sacramental sweets. The littlest 'Vark, the grand-Vark, has the traditional pail-and-shovel thing happening.

Several of my Easter memories of a yout' are getting a Junior Detective kit in my Easter basket, complete with ink for taking fingerprints. My cousin Shawn and I did inkblots. I got a pastel-colored duckling, which my cousin's dachsund killed. Never have had much to do with the breed since.

The Sisters of St. Mary, the religious order which ran the St. Eugene hospital in Dillon, SC, would bake a lamb-shaped cake, iced and colored, and send it over to us. They were sweet ladies, those nuns.

One year I received a spun-sugar egg with a window in one end, with a pretty scene inside.
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As a child, I could never understand how Jesus' declaration of "three days and three nights" in the earth could be fit into Friday evening through Sunday sunrise. It's the sort of thing that must have led Mark Twain to say "Faith is believing what you know ain't so.", except I didn't believe it. I preferred to believe what Jesus said over what a cleric said. I figured it was merely representational, that Friday evening through Sunday sunrise thing.
Years later, Lowell Blankenship, one of our elders, and a REAL rocket scientist, explicated it clearly and plainly and Scripturally, the three days and three nights thing. I will find the notes and show a diagram one day.

It is fascinating what people will believe traditionally, in the face of the clear statements of the Bible.

It's the First Day of the week. Please consider going to commemorate the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus. Plastic eggs and candy are optional.