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Sunday, April 24, 2011

Easter flowers

It was our custom growing up to take flowers to the dead at Easter. Well, come to think of it, we only visited my mother's mother at Easter. She was buried some 30 miles away.

Every Easter. Directly after church. Still dressed for church. In a car without air conditioning.

The good part was we'd stop to eat somewhere. Usually fried chicken of some sort. Once I failed to count the change from the purchase. It was a long time before we heard the end of that. I cost the family ten bucks at a time when ten dollars was worth something.

I'm not sure I could find that church now. Perhaps this summer we can recovery that little bit of family history.

Not to worry. I won't be stopping for fried chicken this time. More likely, fried chicken livers.


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