This griddle. Hm. It has seen better days, and no wonder. It’s one of our wedding gifts, from seventeen years ago today.
After the pies are baked, they pop right out – like mini springform pans without the spring. They are the cutest ever.
I’m glad for the good times and the homemaking skills, the little songs she sang us, the silliness and the ethics. Her years of patience.
It begins with a bowl of breakfast. Plain Greek yogurt with honey, strawberries, pecans. Then there’s the gorgeous clear weather.
Josh Coblentz writes: “Easter has not yet rooted out the reality of death and isolation which continue to wreak havoc in the world…”
I feel like Caroline Ingalls, attempting to preserve civilization on the frontier wilds, with her tiny gilt-toed shepherdess on the mantel.