A Sunny Easter

Day 170: The Bunny couldn't have asked for a more beautiful morning for hiding eggs, and although he didn't bring me any, he did deliver some chocolate in yesterday's mail. Why I should have taken a sudden craving for milk chocolate instead of my usual preference for extra-dark, super blackout, 90-92% cocoa is beyond me, but my stash was entirely devoid of anything lighter than 80%. That is neither here nor there. What matters is that the garden is beginning to show its true colours. The Hellebores are exceptionally flowery this year, although the daffodils have put on a weak showing so far. The Forsythia is lovely, its arching stems visible through the kitchen window when I'm washing dishes, and the Red-flowering Currant has begun to attract the hummingbirds even though the flowers aren't open far enough to admit their probing little beaks. It is a rare day in March when blue sky shows as a backdrop to the promise of more flowers to come.

Tatting In Easter Colours

Day 149: Now while I don't let him completely dictate the pattern of my life, my Boy is getting old and deserves a few accommodations. Finding projects to work while your lap is occupied by fourteen pounds of fur-covered lard immediately excludes weaving on any of my small looms, rules out knitting a sweater or crocheting an afghan, or anything else where I would need to be sitting in a prescribed position or shifting a large piece of work. Admittedly, he's found a way to insinuate himself under my sit-on embroidery frame, but there's always the risk of poking one or the other of us with the needle. Consequently, I've made a lot of socks this winter, and I've done a fair bit of tatting. This is my most recent project, an oval doily. I started it less than a week ago and am done with half the last row of medallions. The center is worked in the same purple-and-green variegated thread as the outer row, and is followed by three rows of plain lavender. I think that lone crocus may have influenced my Easter-y colour choice.

Easter Flowers

Day 173: Easter is not a day I celebrate, unless it's to use it as an excuse to make a couple of devilled eggs for lunch. On the other hand, my garden is breaking out its spring wardrobe. The first narcissi opened yesterday, preceded by a few double daffodils by less than 48 hours. The grape hyacinths sneaked in and surprised me, standing beside furled peony foliage. In even better news, the honeybees and bumbles have joined a parade to the blossoms, and a handful of butterflies (largely Commas) are fluttering their standards at the head of the march. Indoors, I'm setting seeds in flats, already rewarded with the eruption of poppies and tomatoes, both now at the point of putting on their first true leaves. I may not celebrate Easter, but I do celebrate planting season with great enthusiasm. Unfortunately, I have no mustard in the house, so my hard-boiled eggs will have to be eaten plain.

Bloomin' Springtime

Day 182: Although Easter is not a holiday with any personal relevance, it brings with it a definite feeling of renewal in that it occurs at a time when spring bulbs are putting on their annual gala. My flower beds are not at peak daffodil time yet, but there are enough to delight any Easter bunny who happened to be looking for a place to hide his eggs. When I was a youngster, there was always a red one nestled in a cup of tulip leaves or a purple one tucked into place among the minarets of grape hyacinth. Daffodils nearly always concealed those dyed green or blue, camouflaged by the play of light and shadow filtering through the strappy foliage. It might be that the Easter bunny gave me early lessons in observation, for rather than putting eggs where I was sure to find them, he concealed them with great skill. Of course I was cautioned not to trample the flowers in their beds, so I would sit at the edge, studying the plants until a wink of improper colour caught my eye. Later, I learned that this way of observing at the environment is described as not 'looking for something,' but 'looking for something which shouldn't be there.' It is a system which has served me well. That said, I never saw the Easter bunny at his work, but one year I caught his minion in the act of hiding an egg in the bookcase headboard of my bed. Easter was never quite the same after that.

Easter Blooms

Day 185: The colour in my garden is patchy, but there's no denying that Spring has arrived. My earliest memories of Easter involved searching for eggs in my parents' garden, and I think it's fair to say that I was more entranced by the flowers than by the treats the famous Bunny had left beneath them. Invariably during my hunt, a few stems of Grape Hyacinth would be broken, and of course these were gathered up to be accompanied by a few deliberately-picked daffodils and the obligatory do-you-like-butter dandelions. Lilacs came later, in time for May Day, followed by the blood-red peonies which my father so dearly loved. Sometimes there were sweet peas, a plant I have never successfully grown here at the foot of the Mountain. Today, my complement includes daffodils and narcissi (we won't quibble over semantics), Fritillaria meleagris, grape hyacinth, pigsqueak (Bergenia), heather, a Patty Plant, wild currant, abundant hellebore and snowflakes. If the Bunny were to bring me eggs today, he'd have no trouble matching them to a hiding place, whatever colour they might be.

Happy Easter!

Day 200: I can safely date the Ukrainian-style pysanky (Easter eggs) shown in this photo as at least 25 years old based on where I was living at the time I created them. It was a craft phase I passed through, the focus of my attention for a year or so and then laid aside for other pursuits: been there, done that. It was a time-consuming passion, the dyeing process often taking as much as eight hours for a single chicken egg.

Work is done on whole eggs. Hot wax is first applied to any portion of the pattern which the artist wants to remain white, using a tool called a kistka. The egg is then submerged in the next lightest dye (let's use yellow as an example). When the desired shade has been reached, the egg is removed from the dye and dried before the next coat of wax is applied to the parts of the pattern which are to remain yellow. Dyeing proceeds in this manner until the egg is entirely coated with wax but for the portions of the pattern which are to be the darkest color.

Once the final dye bath is complete, the egg (still whole) is heated gently in a candle flame and wiped clean of wax. This can be a tricky step! Too much heat may cause the egg to explode. After the wax is removed, a light coat of varnish is applied to protect the dyes.

Some artists leave their pysanky forever whole. Even varnished, the "insides" dry out with time. I preferred to blow out the yolk and white after several coats of varnish had been applied (a period of two or three days). The egg would be pierced at each end, the yolk broken and stirred with a long wire, and then using a bulb designed specifically for pysanky-making, I would expel the "insides" into a bowl to be discarded. Again, this was a very tricky operation. The slightest unseen crack in the egg would burst under pressure and hours of work would be lost.

Many of the designs seen on pysanky have special meanings, and legend tells us that love is spread throughout the world whenever a pysanky is given. That's something you won't find in a chocolate creme egg. Happy Easter!

Yarn Eggs

Day 146: First of all, I would like to thank my friend Kelli for posting the instructions for making these Easter eggs where I could see them. They sounded quite easy to make, so I picked up all the supplies last week and sat myself down to the task. Immediately, I found myself challenged by trying to insert a foil-covered chocolate egg into a water balloon (hints will follow at the end of this article). Once I'd got the candy into the neck of the balloon, I struggled with inflating it, but once it started to expand, the egg popped neatly into the enlarged form. The next part of the project involved wrapping yarn soaked in a mixture of glue and water around the slippery inflated balloon. At first, this proved to be rather difficult to accomplish without having it slide off, but in subsequent attempts, I learned to control the tension. Once the yarn was laid on, I looped a twist-tie around the mouth of the balloon and hung the eggs to dry. Surprisingly, when it came time to remove the balloon from the center, it peeled away from the yarn easily.

Now, if you're interested in making these, I'll expand on the original instructions. You will need yarn, water balloons (regular balloons will NOT do), quick-drying craft glue and chocolate eggs. The project will be a lot easier if you have an assistant, but it can be accomplished by one person.

Water balloons are VERY stretchy and tough. This was something I did not know when I began working. Stretch the neck as wide as you can manage, pulling it apart until you can maneuver a chocolate egg into the opening. It does not have to drop into the body of the balloon, but after you've done a few, you'll discover that it's possible. Now inflate the balloon to a nice size (don't fully inflate it) and tie off the neck. Mix one part craft glue with one part water (a tablespoon of each will be sufficient for three eggs). Soak a 6-yard length of yarn in the glue mixture while keeping the ends in your hand. Wring out as much of the glue as possible, returning it to the bowl. Separate the yarn ends and begin winding the yarn snugly but not tightly around the balloon. Make a conscious effort to keep the crossings from bulking up in any one spot. Always remember that you don't want the chocolate to fall out through one of the holes, so be mindful of spacing. You can manipulate the threads a little after wrapping is complete. When you're done wrapping, tuck the end of the yarn under one of the threads to conceal it. Wrap a twist-tie around the balloon neck and hang your masterpiece up to dry.

When the eggs are completely dry, poke a hole in the large end of the balloon and scissor an opening large enough for the chocolate to escape. You may have to make a couple of incisions. Pull the balloon pieces out of the egg with the point of your scissors or a pair of needlenosed pliers. Be careful not to pull any of the yarn intersections apart, but if you happen to do so, stick another candy inside and dab a little glue on the yarn to reseal it.

This honestly is a quick, cute project once you've worked out the fine points of construction. You have plenty of time between now and Easter to make them for your friends!