|Not a great pic, but the only one |
my dad could find. (And since he
spent three hours searching the
albums I feel like I should use it.)
"It makes everything look more colorful," said nine-year-old Erin. "More like spring."
We (usually) waited until the first or second warm-ish day in March to tackle this project and as I said 25+ years ago, the eggs added much needed and longed for color to the otherwise drab, melancholy tree. These factors combined in such a way that I began to associate this tradition with the beginning of spring.
It's been cold here, and not just by Texas standards. We nearly froze to death at Will's last two early morning soccer games (thank goodness I had my rising blood pressure to keep me warm this past Saturday), and more than once last week Hallie cried all the way to school because she just couldn't handle Mother Nature's wrath. But on Saturday afternoon, for just a brief window of an hour or two, the sun came out and we followed its lead. While Tom treated for ants (seriously Texas, enough with the fire ants) and I organized and cleaned the garage, the kids tried - unsuccessfully - to fly kites in the front yard. As I went through holiday bins, I found my bag of plastic Easter eggs and decided it was time to brighten up the front of the house for the first time in five years.