Easter Time is the Time for Eggs

Hoppy Easter, everybunny! I’m re-blogging my Easter post from last year, partly out of sheer laziness, and partly because I think it’s worth re-blogging.


In my thirty-something years of life, I only have three Easter memories, which I will now share with you.

1) Goin’ to Church

It has occurred to me that I’ve managed to set foot in damn near every kind of church there is over the years:  Baptist, Catholic, Methodist, Unitarian, Episcopalian, Pentecostal, Assembly of God, Church of Christ, Nazarine, Latter Day Saints, etc.  I’ve even been to Synagogue, fer cryin’ out loud.  One memory that I will always keep with me is the time my family went to a Catholic Easter service.  This was in Lebanon, Missouri, and we were visiting my first step-mother’s family, who were devout Catholics.  I used to love visiting them during the holidays because a) they were nice folks, and b) we always ate well.  Do you know what perogies are?  They’re like Polish potato dumplings, and I used to eat a shitload of ’em.  Well…

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