My grandmother's accent was a constant source of amusement for me as a kid (and admittedly still is, years after her death). It was always affectionate amusement, though, as opposed to the "sauce of entertainment" that is my mother.
Easter is a holiday that I just don't "get". Since my recovery from Catholicism it holds no religious significance for me, and now that I have children older than 6 there's no secular significance either. No bunnies or coloring of eggs around here. If it's supposed to be a celebration of the beginning of Spring, tell that to the 36 degree winter-like conditions out my front door.
In the 60s, however, it was a wonderful opportunity for parents everywhere to humiliate their children by dressing them up in spongy "spring coats" and scratchy hats with annoying chin straps that were prime targets for snapping (until bra straps replaced them). Boys were not exempt. They wore suits with shorts, a look that has just never caught on. Understandably.
Here are some real life illustrations:
This is my mean sister, the one I don't talk to anymore. It tickles me to post this picture of her with the Jackie O hat, sexy netting and all.
I do love this sister, so I hope she doesn't kill me, but the hat is priceless. The ultimate Easter Bonnet. She actually looks younger NOW, at 61.
Two of my cousins who were just so damned cute as little kids. But note the suit. And shorts. And wallpaper.
Me in my "Total Dork" period, complete with missal and Edith Prickly eyeglasses. My mother's fashion sense (for us, not for her) could only be described as "Pastel Refugee".
OK, I'll admit that this was one cute dress. It must have been a gift!
So.... to all who celebrate, "Happy Yeast!". As for us pagans, we'll be spending the day watching The Masters and anticipating the start of the final season of The Sopranos.