That'd be Greek for "resurrection". Or, as we like to say around here, Easter.
Happy belated Easter to you and yours! Myself and mine had a lovely weekend.
Holy Saturday, aka "Easter Eve", we spent cleaning and cooking and enjoying the sulphurous aroma of six dozen eggs boiling. We dyed them later that evening. We had twice as many colors as we usually did what with the regular Paas dye kit and the neon Paas dye kit. Of course my dad made his traditional "EAT ME" egg, but my sister and I came up with the following gems:
My flag eggs...
To the left we have Ireland.
To the right we have the US of A. Slash France.
And then my sister went and bested my ethnically confused one.
On Easter my brother (who's now 15! When did that happen?) and my sister and I went to noon Mass, a touch on the tardy side. Imagine my surprise when I hoofed it up the steps to the choir loft in my plastic heels from junior year's prom to find it full of kids. It wasn't unlike the kids' choir the music director- the same Schola director- throws together for Christmas every year.
After I tripped over a mic stand, he told me to pay attention to the Psalm response, since he wanted me to sing it next year. Next year? I'd known it for years! I was this close to mentioning the Psalm at Schola rehearsal this week, too. Oh, well.
I feel a little "off to see the Wizard"-ish here for some reason.
Also, my dress? Yeah, that was all my mom's handiwork. 2 trips to Jo-Ann's+3 weeks= beauty.
All three of us girls in yellow was not planned, I swear.