Celebrating the season...

What is it about Easter candy? We buy it early, eat so much that we have to buy more to fill the Easter baskets, and keep eating it even when (in my case, at least) the artificial coloring produces headaches. I'm seduced by the lovely colors...it all speaks of spring and blossoms and life.

But wait, the same thing happens at Halloween. With candy, I mean. We buy, we eat, we buy more so we have enough to hand out. Face it, it's all about the sugar.

And here's a deep thought: Easter at our house requires Cadbury eggs, but their red, green, and blue foil wrap clashes with all the pastels of the other candy. Now that Cadbury has been bought by Kraft, I hope they maintain their quality, but I also wouldn't mind if they introduced seasonal colors for their foil wrap. I told you it was a deep thought. I notice these things.

Anyway, the kids are back in town and there will be modest Easter baskets (they don't eat a lot of candy yet) and Pa and Grandma will have plenty of candy leftovers! I hope it's a lovely sunny day for you and yours!

What Easter bonnet will you be wearing?

The kids are on a spring break trip to see their Montana grandparents and, as Augie says, "become a dental floss tycoon." At least I hope he says it; we thought it might amuse Grandpa Terry and Grandma Anita.

Meanwhile Pa is missing his grandbabies, so I thought I'd post a couple of photos I took when we were playing with the dressup clothes a day or two before they left.

Time again for...pinup guy!

Mister April is Paul Mazgelis, who does business as Paul the Painter in Cape Neddick, Maine. He is a participant in the "Men of York" calendar, produced for charity by the Greater York (Maine) Region Chamber of Commerce. If they still have calendars, you can buy one at gatewaytomaine.org. If they're sold out, you'll just have to check back here at the end of each month!

Don’t you know I worry about you?

It happened twice last week: People posted something melancholy, and I began to worry.

Matthew wrote a haunting piece about the moment when you know that a relationship has spiraled from salvageable to over. Oh, no, I thought, he’s been writing about this great relationship and now it’s over? In a comment, I offered my sympathy, and he quickly responded that in fact this scene happened years ago. He’s fine now. Whew.

Then Chantel posted a poetic elegy called "Treading Water" about exhaustion and wondering whether to call for help. Oh-oh, it sounds like she needs help. She wrote back to say “No worries”; she always writes dark when she’s tired. She said she might edit the piece, and as I write this she has taken it down.

Many of the very creative writers produce emotional pieces, some purely autobiographical and others fictional or enhanced for literary effect, whether melancholy or humorous. I find myself jumping in and playing the grandma role, offering sympathy--or advice.

I’ve been known to comment with things like, “If you don’t want to buy the house your hubby likes, hold out for one you like better,” and “If you don’t want to spend your 40th birthday with your mother-in-law, tell her no, and tell hubby he has to stand up for you.” The minute I send the comment, I think, Who am I to tell this person what to do?

I’m not your grandma, but I might play one on your blog.