Azaleas and easter eggs at Bunica's house.
Bright red eggs.
The kids dyed eggs with Aunt Sanda. After dyeing, they rubbed bacon grease on each egg to give them a glow. The traditional egg-breaking contest left Prophet on top.
Gnome eats her egg with mustard.
And a thought from Marilynne Robinson's When I Was A Child I Read Books that stayed in my head long after my eyes left the page....
What about us was of interest, if we imagine looking at ourselves in retrospect? That we made civilizations, or that we drove them to the ground, reduced them to rubble? I won't pretend that this is a real question. We make wealth, and we destroy it. Our wealth is finally neither more nor less than human well-being. There is no necessary hypothesis; there is no value but what we value. The great temptation of money is that it seems to give us token, markers, by which things and people can be truly said to succeed or fail.