(E) Easter Eggs and Other Contrivances

Other than celebrating the obvious religious aspects of Easter, I have always tried to make the holiday a fun and exciting time for my children.

At first it was easy.

When they were young, a plastic basket with fake grass and a hollow bunny was enough to satisfy them. But as they grew older they wanted to dye their own eggs, decorate them, hide them, hunt them- and then proceed to eat those mangled symbols of some invisible bunny.


They were lucky that I was a mother who worshiped Martha Stewart. She was the goddess of ultimate hospitality, creativity, innovation and presentation. And if I couldn't be Audrey Hepburn, then I wanted to be Martha- a busy bee that whipped up decorative beauty at the blink of an eye and caused the entire neighborhood to gossip about my talent. And I wanted my children to constantly be in pure awe and adoration of my creative genius.


I'm glad Martha went to jail.

If she had been sentenced for the very fact that she bamboozled the entire female population into believing that these projects of hers were easy and fun- then justice would have been well served. She ought to be ashamed that she falsely portrayed a smiling, calm, and perfectly organized woman at the helm of these hair-brained ideas.


Yes, she could weave a set of drapes with dental floss, tile her patio with broken coconut shells, and whip up an omelet that looked like Abraham Lincoln. But, she never had three kids at her feet while she dyed Easter eggs.


Do you realize the impending disaster that six open bowls of dye, magic crayons, and glitter can cause? Do you know what catastrophe can be induced by fighting children with weapons of hard boiled eggs and jelly beans? Do you grasp the fact that sweet-looking pastel eggs will eventually turn black after being dunked in dye seventeen times? Do you comprehend the square footage of paper towels, napkins and newspaper required for decorating a mere dozen eggs? Do you even fathom the mess that is left after one of these so-called Martha activities?
I tell you now- It's not a good thing.

As my children grew up, I finally grew out from beneath Martha's shadow. I went back to making frozen pizzas instead of grinding flour for my own crusts and milking the neighbors goat for fresh cheese. I bought my kitchen curtains at KMart instead of making my own from left-over bread ties and dryer sheets. I no longer cared if the dinner table was set with real napkins, crystal water glasses, and the appropriate utensils. I went back to paper plates, Big Gulp cups from the local gas station, and to letting them wipe their messy mouths on their sleeves. 
And Easter egg dying was totally banned from my household. 

I truly believe with all my heart that God made plastic eggs for a reason...


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All my regular followers know that I have tried to make the middle of the week a Goodwill Wednesday here on my blog. I had been having trouble uploading pictures because my internet is totally screwy- but I managed to get a few before and afters of my latest project.
So, here's my Goodwill Wednesday:


I saw this table at a yard sale.

I asked the guy what he wanted for it- he looked at me strangely- and said, "How about a dollar?"
I really believe if I had argued with him, he would have given me a dollar to haul it off.
Later, I realized that the sides were bolted up and wouldn't fold down, but I just removed them.

Anyway...thanks to my sister Tina for storing this on her front porch till I had time to rescue it. I know her neighbors were pretty sure that a porch couch would be coming next and then the whole neighborhood would go to Hell...
...but most people didn't look at that old rusty table and see what I saw:

Perfect for my back bathroom...