I remember the Easters of my childhood.  Dying eggs the day before, and that sulfur sweet smell of that activity.  Waking up on the morning to a basket of jelly beans and peeps, sponge rollers in the hair, a new dress with a white hat, and church, followed by a big lunch (let’s stop calling it dinner Bolhouses, if it happens at 1pm).

We’ve got a little tradition here, brunch with friends in Georgetown.  This year we made eggs (watercolors worked well on brown eggs) and Hazel and I followed the new dress plan and she even got a hat!  The restaurant even provided the massive chocolate eggs for kids.

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