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Happy Easter You Glorious Infidels.


LostinTexas
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Long, long ago,  I was in NC,  scoping out apartments before we moved there.  I was walking down the beach,  way before sunrise and I came across a giant cross (20' high), with the sash, pretty close to the water.  I thought, "huh."    There were no footprints or tire tracks around,  so I figured it had been there for a while.

Walking back,  right before sunrise,  there were 100 people sitting in lined-up folding chairs and a priest was giving a service.  Then I remembered it was Easter Sunday.  I stood at the back to watch.

Right as he got to the "He has risen" part,  the sun brilliantly and magnificently burst over the horizon, right behind the cross.

It was pretty moving.

I actually stayed and watched the whole thing.

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For Easter, I would get a new suit (usually tweed, short pants until I was eleven.  One year it included a jaunty cap) and my sister got a new dress and shoes to attend the Easter service at the Lutheran church.

I tried to never wear the suit again and in six months, I had outgrown it anyway.

We never did the egg hunt, but we surely dyed a bazillion eggs with the Rit kits and candy-filled Easter baskets with the fake green grass.

We usually ate the eggs and only years later did we discover that you weren't supposed to eat food dyed with Rit dyes.

Every kid I knew ate the Rit-dyed eggs for Easter.

I betcha Huaco Kid ate the Rit-dyed eggs.

We all survived.

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I guess everybody did RIT,  but I do remember just using coffee mugs full of hot vinegar and food dye squirted in.  We'd scribble designs onto them with white wax,  and the color wouldn't stick there.

Then,  after watching the Brady Bunch commercials,  we got the Ron-co thing,  where you put the egg into a little lathe and clipped tiny magic markers into the arm,  and spun the egg around, while moving the arm back and forth.  That was fun, for about, three eggs.

One year,  in the middle of next winter,  Mom moved the couch and there was an Easter egg back there.  As soon as she touched it,  it popped open into the biggest, most-foul, stench anyone had ever imagined.  You'll take that smell to the grave with you.

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We use to get brightly colored Easter chicks every year. They died in a couple of weeks, due to the toxic dye. One year I picked a black chick at the five & dime. Since she wasn't dyed she lived. She grew up and made nests all around the neighborhood. We kids would find the eggs and take them home and our moms would cook them for us. She was a neighborhood fixture for years. :eat:

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My wife and I spent today helping with an Easter Egg hunt hosted by a church with a lot of kids in real need. My Masonic lodge was invited to help by another lodge. We did the egg hunt and provided lunch for a lot of families. Then we gave the kids backpacks with school supplies. It was great seeing so many happy kids. 
 

Matthew 19:14 Suffer little children, and forbid them not: to come unto me. 

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1782189829_treeinalabama(5).thumb.JPG.38e38fde8e51077cd254af78805fb63a.JPG

On the hillside behind a hotel I go to often,  is this old tree I like to see.

Again, one year, I was up very early and saw a huge cross up there (maybe the cross' are finding me).   Easter Sunday, again.  I went up to check it out.

A small group of people were having a quiet contemplation / prayer session / reading.

Then they noticed me.

I was pretty far back,  in the waist-deep grass,  bearded, much too-long hair,  and probably dressed pretty shabbily (work clothes).

They stared for a while.  I waved, and walked off.

I wonder if I really freaked them out.

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One year,  I was riding the Alaska RR from Anchorage to Fairbanks (winter schedule).  Hours and hours of absolute non-civilization.   It's a "whistle-stop" run,  so it'd sometimes stop and people would throw box after box off of a car, into a snowbank,  and drive off.  It's their "Amazon".

Some people (you still never saw any civilization) would flag the train down,  pass boxes up, and it'd drive off.

The train once stopped,  and a VERY old lady,  dressed up like the Easter Bunny, got on and silently handed out colorful hard-boiled eggs.  Then she climbed back onto the snowbank and waved as the train drove off.

The conductor came over the PA and said, "That's how we roll, folks!"

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16 hours ago, tous said:

For Easter, I would get a new suit (usually tweed, short pants until I was eleven.  One year it included a jaunty cap) and my sister got a new dress and shoes to attend the Easter service at the Lutheran church.

I tried to never wear the suit again and in six months, I had outgrown it anyway.

We never did the egg hunt, but we surely dyed a bazillion eggs with the Rit kits and candy-filled Easter baskets with the fake green grass.

We usually ate the eggs and only years later did we discover that you weren't supposed to eat food dyed with Rit dyes.

Every kid I knew ate the Rit-dyed eggs for Easter.

I betcha Huaco Kid ate the Rit-dyed eggs.

We all survived.

Bethlehem Lutheran for me as a youngster.  Years later I found out that the church was considered a bit radical.  Ha, radical conservatives!

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37 minutes ago, LostinTexas said:

Did you know the pine trees always know when it's Easter? New growth is little crosses on the ends of the branches. It doesn't last long, but really cool. This is a pic of a tree by my house a few years ago.

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Any idea what specific type of pine?

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2 hours ago, railfancwb said:

Any idea what specific type of pine?

No, but the ones on both sides of the road do it, and are different varieties. I figured they all did it, as long as they produced cones. On that thought, they have to be mature, I guess.

They are only there for a few (2-3) days and usually during Easter week, but it depends on when they start new growth.

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