I almost hesitate to say Happy Easter because I know not everyone who will pop in today celebrates Easter Sunday or acknowledges its significance. Also, it seems like such a serious day for a flippant word like "happy." Happy Birthday. Happy Valentine's Day. Happy Halloween. Saying "happy Easter" doesn't quite fit, although I like Easter bunnies and Easter eggs and Easter baskets and Easter dresses—all light-hearted traditions. Easter peeps should be banned, however.
When I was growing up, we went to church on Easter Sunday, like we did on all Sundays, but all I remember about the special day are the pagan-like traditions, happy ones. It was customary for us all to get new dresses that were not to be worn until the big day. With the dresses came delicate white hats, white gloves, lacy socks, black or white patten shoes, and sometimes a little matching purse. We would be lined up on the front steps of the house for a picture, and then we paraded ourselves to church. "I could write a sonnet about your Easter bonnet and of the girl I'm taking to the Easter parade."
We colored eggs with the smelly vinegar dyes in boxed kits, the kind with the waxed crayon and the little stands that you punched out of the cardboard so your eggs could be displayed on the dining room table. And our Easter baskets were filled with jelly beans, a hollow chocolate bunny, and plastic grass. Happy memories, I'd say, of happy Easter celebrations.
On this day in 1743, Handel's Messiah premiered in London. It was meant to be performed during Lent but has since become a Christmas tradition, with choirs leaving out the parts related to Jesus' resurrection. I have never sung in a production of the Messiah, and since it doesn't have horn parts, I have never played in it either. Someday I'd like to be invited to a Messiah party where people gather around the piano dressed in 18th-century costume and sight-read the music. I would request I be allowed to wear my Easter dress with my shiny patten shoes instead of the old costume, and maybe I'd wear a bonnet not unlike Judy Garland's. That would surely make for a happy Easter event.
Oh, all right then. I talked myself into saying it—Happy Easter to you all.
When I was growing up, we went to church on Easter Sunday, like we did on all Sundays, but all I remember about the special day are the pagan-like traditions, happy ones. It was customary for us all to get new dresses that were not to be worn until the big day. With the dresses came delicate white hats, white gloves, lacy socks, black or white patten shoes, and sometimes a little matching purse. We would be lined up on the front steps of the house for a picture, and then we paraded ourselves to church. "I could write a sonnet about your Easter bonnet and of the girl I'm taking to the Easter parade."
We colored eggs with the smelly vinegar dyes in boxed kits, the kind with the waxed crayon and the little stands that you punched out of the cardboard so your eggs could be displayed on the dining room table. And our Easter baskets were filled with jelly beans, a hollow chocolate bunny, and plastic grass. Happy memories, I'd say, of happy Easter celebrations.
On this day in 1743, Handel's Messiah premiered in London. It was meant to be performed during Lent but has since become a Christmas tradition, with choirs leaving out the parts related to Jesus' resurrection. I have never sung in a production of the Messiah, and since it doesn't have horn parts, I have never played in it either. Someday I'd like to be invited to a Messiah party where people gather around the piano dressed in 18th-century costume and sight-read the music. I would request I be allowed to wear my Easter dress with my shiny patten shoes instead of the old costume, and maybe I'd wear a bonnet not unlike Judy Garland's. That would surely make for a happy Easter event.
Oh, all right then. I talked myself into saying it—Happy Easter to you all.
Comments
Greetings from snow-bound England, where the spring has thrown us some very strange Easter weather indeed.
I'm just back from Easter Sunday Service (one of only three days a year our little village church is full) and I could have done with a team of huskies instead of the Easter Bunny to get me home … Brr.
I'd have adored to have a new dress to look forward to for Easter. We never had that at all. I don't remember dressing especially well for the day and we never went to church. Unless i stayed with my grandmother who went every Sunday, we only went for Christenings and weddings. When i did go with my Nanny (grandmother) it was quite an experience, i LOVED the singing, marvelled at how many people my grandmother knew and could greet outside church and the walk to the church made me feel special, i've no idea why. She brushed my long hair and always put a bow in it beforehand. On return from one stay i asked a local friend if i could join her church. I went along one morning and was horrified to see someone lowered into a sunken bath in the floor, struggling for breath whilst they were pushed under the water. I escaped hurriedly with my life and never went again.
No, Easter to us as children was "How many eggs did YOU get???!!"
A little ditty we used to sing!!!!!
Easter was a day for picking primroses, (not allowed to do that nowadays) and going to Church with the family.....We usually had a new outfit for spring.....wonder what the youngsters nowadays would think ....only having one outfit a year!!!!
Lynn would not fancy being ducked under the water in this weather!!!
The sun usually shone.....
Seeing Dives blog and yours yesterday.... I took some photo's early this morning when Oscar decided to wake me at 5am......
If Spring has sprung, which it had told the weather!!!!!!
Happy Easter ......
My childhood Easters were JUST like yours...a new outfit, including hat and gloves (I remember being allowed to wear pantyhose for the first time. It was such a big deal!!), photos, smelly vinegar dye kits, marshmallow eggs, church. It was lovely, really!
Again, I so enjoyed the brass group yesterday. It was fantastic
PF