On a Quiet April Morning

I'm thinking about Easter and the preparations for the weekend. Heart and home. Yesterday, after school, my eldest granddaughter and I made some bags of Muddy Buddies as treats for our Easter celebration. We enjoyed chatting and playing together, and she stayed for dinner with us. Now 8, she is growing up so quickly and I cherish the time I have with her, and with each of my other grandchildren. 

The quiet of this morning is more to do with the soft and steady drizzle of rain and the gray skies than with what's going on in my head. There things are flying around with wild abandon as I make lists and flit from one item on my to-do list to another. Just now, as I sit in my chair and watch the rain fall and listen to the quiet of the house my mind calms. It would be a good day for curling up with a book, or some stitching, and a cup of tea. That will have to wait. 

The fawn lilies are now in bloom in the woods, mostly white, floating like stars just above the mossy ground. I spied a clump of pink fawn lilies in the rain. Erythronium revolutum. I believe I prefer the white ones. These lilies are native to the west coast of North America. There's always a little leap of internal joy when I see them emerge from their flat, spotted, close to the ground leaves. 

Last weekend's Lemon Tart. This is a close version of the recipe I used, from Laura Calder. It's not too sweet with a decided lemon flavour and just enough pucker to satisfy. I made a press-in shortbread crust, baked blind, that worked well. 

Last night, after I took Adria home, the evening light beckoned me to the garden. I cut lemon balm - it's a bit invasive, but I let it stay because it can fill in gaps nicely in the garden, and transplants well. Maybe too well. On my walk the other evening I picked the first sprig of lilac. Lilacs will be the next flower to rush into spring. 

It seems to me that spring is full of hurry. The flowers tumble over themselves, all in a commotion to bloom. Snowdrops barely fade before crocus and daffodil and muscari and hyacinth rush upon the scene, closely followed by tulips and anemones. Now the cornflowers are forming blooms, and tight rose buds will emerge. It's unstoppable. Hooray for relentless spring. 
I feel like I can't keep up. I'd like to enjoy each one longer, if I could, but no, we move on to the next beautiful thing. The bustle can be exhausting! 

A bunch of spray roses came home with me from grocery shopping yesterday. I thought they were pinker than they are, but the soft blush is still very pretty. I lit a candle this morning, thanks to the rain. 

We'll be celebrating our Easter dinner as a family on Saturday evening this year. That's what works best for in-laws. It's always good to be flexible even if it means tradition sometimes needs to be tweaked a little. Dinner will include a baked ham with TWO sauces - raisin sauce and sweet mustard sauce - because it's TRADITION. Scalloped potatoes, probably some broccoli, bright carrots, and a fresh green salad. Dessert is still not decided. I'm debating between chocolate mousse and an orange chiffon cake. When I put the question to Adria yesterday, she said, "why not both?" Smart girl, that one. 

Thanks for reading this rather rambling post. I wish you all a most joyous Easter as we remember the sacrifice of Christ, and the triumph of the Resurrection.