Sam-ish

He's not cute yet. I'm brushing him hair to make him cute. Like I brush my hair when I'm gonna be cute. 

A Little Story

Our Family History consultant in our Ward has been encouraging us to write our own stories. She has emphasized that something is better than nothing and I couldn't agree more! 

She has offered to come to our home and hold a Family History themed FHE. As our pre-homework for this, we have been asked to write a story from our life. 

I thought it would be fitting to write my memories of Easter Sunday as a child, with Easter having just passed. 

Easter was often spent at grandma and grandpa's farm in Idaho. If we weren't in Idaho we were at home in Cheyenne. I anticipated with pure excitement the new Easter outfit I would receive each year. Mom would sew our dresses and finish the outfit off with new socks or hats or gloves or little purses. Oh! How I loved waking up in the morning to see a new dress hanging up for me. It felt like magic the way my mom could do that. The girls would go to bed the Saturday night before Easter with pink curlers in our hair, ready for picture perfect perfection on Sunday morning. 

When Easter morning came, church came first and then the festivities of Easter baskets and an egg hunt. The eggs were hard boiled and dyed beautiful colors by the family a day or two previous. There was also at least one egg  that had been dipped in every color, making it an ugly brown color that we affectionately called the "camo egg".  I loved to snack on the hard boiled eggs after they had all been found. Our baskets were filled with little treats and, what I remember the most was getting kites. Those silly kites. I don't remeber ever successfully flying them, although we probably did. If not, it was surely due to the strong Wyoming winds that plagued many a childhood day for me. I sure did love receiving those kites though!

Surprisingly, (because I love the meals that come with holidays) I don't recall what we would eat for Easter dinner, but assume it was ham. I do remeber that grandma would make delicious angel food cake. That is a particular memory because we were not allowed in the kitchen when it was baking. On penalty of death! Or, at least a lickin'. 

Easter was always so wonderful.