My family likes to celebrate Easter on Saturday instead of Sunday – we travel about 2 hours each way, so doing it on Saturday makes it easier for our hosts to get to church on Sunday, and easier for all of us to be ready for Monday morning. If you couldn’t tell, we’re super traditional.
As per usual, we had a lovely time. Good food (too MUCH good food!), good people, good times. My aunt and uncle have this way about them that I admire so much. I feel so lucky every time I’m there.
Family on Saturday left Sunday for doing whatever it was we wanted to do. I decided a few weeks ago I would try to get to the beach. Things were a little iffy there for a minute – thought I might want to sleep the day away instead. But I got my ass in gear and went down. It was a beautiful day.
A little windy, but otherwise pretty perfect. It was a little more crowded than I expected. But then again…I’ve never been to the beach on Easter, so I had no real idea what to expect.
After a veeeeery long (3 hour) stroll along the Cape May coastline, I called my friend who was in CM visiting his mom (one of my Second Mothers). She moved back down there in January and this was my first visit since then.
I said (all very Are You Being Served like), “Are you freeeee?” He said, “hell yeah, come on by!” So I did. She’s got the cutest little place there right on the bay. And surprise! I was just in time for their Easter dinner. Which was super fun for me, because her last name is Easter, and it was Easter. I’ve spent other holidays with them, but never Easter with the Easters.
I looked in the mirror when I went to wash my hands and lo and behold – in very Lauren-like fashion – SUNBURNT. Only the face and feet had been exposed, thank goodness. Trying to stuff those burnt feet into ballet shoes on Monday was a trip.
Hoping to maybe make it all a tradition.