Saturday, April 14, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
The scent of a bonfire
It snowed yesterday; not just a dusting, but a few inches. Snow covered the bright yellow daffodils and clung to the flowering fruit trees.
Today, the sun is out. The snow melted, except in the shadows. The day seems perfect for enjoying an annual family tradition: Eastering. My Grandfather Bachman started this tradition of going Eastering - getting out to enjoy the spring day the saturday before Easter with a hike, a picnic and baskets hidden by the Easter Bunny.
We, the children in the back of my grandfather's plumbing truck, the parents following in their vehicles - my mother in her station wagon, would head to the foothills. Upon a arrival tables would be set up then filled with picnic food. We would put together stone rings for fire pits, and roast hot dogs and marshmellows.
Today, the scent of the bonfire reminds me of my grandfather's Eastering traditions. His family has grown so large with great grand children and great great grand children that we have split into smaller family groups. Our family, with mother as the head no longer head to the foothills, but go instead to our cabin in Southfork. The older members of our family appreciate being indoors. We no longer have hot dogs and marshmellows, but settle for cold cuts and potato salad.
Just up the road my cousins are also Eastering at their cabin. They continue the tradition of hot dogs and marshmellows cooked over a bonfire. Thus the scent of memories.
Today, the sun is out. The snow melted, except in the shadows. The day seems perfect for enjoying an annual family tradition: Eastering. My Grandfather Bachman started this tradition of going Eastering - getting out to enjoy the spring day the saturday before Easter with a hike, a picnic and baskets hidden by the Easter Bunny.
We, the children in the back of my grandfather's plumbing truck, the parents following in their vehicles - my mother in her station wagon, would head to the foothills. Upon a arrival tables would be set up then filled with picnic food. We would put together stone rings for fire pits, and roast hot dogs and marshmellows.
Today, the scent of the bonfire reminds me of my grandfather's Eastering traditions. His family has grown so large with great grand children and great great grand children that we have split into smaller family groups. Our family, with mother as the head no longer head to the foothills, but go instead to our cabin in Southfork. The older members of our family appreciate being indoors. We no longer have hot dogs and marshmellows, but settle for cold cuts and potato salad.
Just up the road my cousins are also Eastering at their cabin. They continue the tradition of hot dogs and marshmellows cooked over a bonfire. Thus the scent of memories.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Pretty little pansies of purple and gold...
I have a pot of pansies on my doorstep. The have such sweet faces that follow the sunshine. A sign of spring!
We had morning snow, but after yesterday's near 80 degree temperatures it did not stick.
Now, the sun and clouds are playing hide and seek with each other.
We had morning snow, but after yesterday's near 80 degree temperatures it did not stick.
Now, the sun and clouds are playing hide and seek with each other.
April Fools Day
My Grandfather was born on April 1st, April Fools Day. He didn't let this get him down, he decided to own the day and enjoyed playing April Fools jokes on people. I am not sure what type of jokes he played on others, but the ones he played on me were usually pretty tame. He would call to tell us that his dog had kittens or that he had witnesses an accident - Washington Boulevard ran into Canyon Road (they do intersect).
This morning, in his tradition, I sent a text to my niece who lives in Hawaii that I was at the airport wondering when she was going to pick me up? The following text said April Fools. Yes, I know a pretty tame April Fools day prank.
I hope that you had a laugh or two on April 1st.
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