Holy Monday Finds Woman Still in Robe, Hair Mussed

I'm watching the lady across the street take down her plastic Easter eggs from her redbud tree with a long pole and hook.

We spent OUR Easter out in the garden (Martin and I) since all three of our girls were sleeping after being hit by the Dreaded Tummy Bug. Here's the inedible Easter cake Elspeth and I made out of crayons:

Poor Elspeth is still fighting her way through, and now she's getting feisty and punching the air. Meanwhile the dandelions are turning a bright cheery yellow. Martin's reading Malcolm X for class while he tries to calm Elspeth with the other hand and I am finally contemplating a shower. We drove by a friend's house whose children are also down for the count and she came out to meet us with a wry laugh. "It's so nice to talk to PEOPLE," she said (though we're fairly sure we're playing host to the same bug we kept our distance). "There IS life beyond our own house."

Sometimes, sometimes, people, thinking about life, for just ONE day without the kids sounds SO good. As long as they came back bouncing and beautiful and smelling as sweet as the lilacs about to bloom in the Pump Garden. . .But these early days, when our kids pick up sickness on holidays, are good bonding times. Happy, happy bonding times. Times for the scrapbook of pestilence. I've only forgotten to take pictures, though.

Egads! Is that a garden ornament? Well, we usually stay away from garden ornaments like bad germs (and they tend to proliferate once you've opened that door), but this one I stuck in the children's garden, (can't help thinking of the Velveteen Rabbit becoming real, though this one is as fake as they come) to surprise the kids. Also, it's serving now as a marker for the PeeGee (what a horrible name) Hydrandea I stuck in the ground (bare sticks at the moment) and the chive and cornflower seeds I sprinkled there.

Happy late Easter. Hope yours was as peaceful, but less messy, than ours.