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      Friday, March 17, 2006

11:29 AM - 03/17/2006

The topic: Odd thoughts


I was just looking through a magazine I get because I have an annual passport to Disneyland.  It’s geared towards parents and the name of it is “Family Fun”.  So, I’m flipping through the pages and I see this little project on creating a little chick in a bed of grass.  The chick is made of donut holes and the grass is shredded coconut colored with green food coloring.

And as I’m looking at this, from nowhere I hear my father saying “it can’t be from Dianne, there are hard boiled eggs”.

A long time ago, when I was single, I made up this Easter basket for my parents.  I bought a little plastic shopping cart (with wheels) and lots of green plastic Easter grass and candy and cans of nuts and treats for the dog, the cat and the birds and little funky presents for my parents.   And I hard boiled some eggs and decorated them, using that clear waxy crayon to write stuff on the eggs such as “guess who?”  and “from the Easter Bunny”....  I covered the entire thing in colorful cellophane paper.  Around four thirty Easter morning, I drove over to their house (I’d smoked a little pot before I left the house…boy, I miss pot, I could have used some pot last night…over twenty years since I’ve had any and boy, howdy, do I miss it at times) and parked across the street from their house.  I took the Easter “basket” over to their front door and just left it there.  I quietly went back to my truck and drove home.

I didn’t get the call until mid morning.  It was my father.  “The Easter bunny was here.  He left a basket.”

“How do you know the Easter bunny isn’t a she?”

Anyway, they’d finally figured out it was from me.  It took them long enough.  First off, mom didn’t want dad to take the cellophane paper off because it might have been delivered to their door by mistake.  Then, when no one claimed it, dad found a way to get to the stuff inside without ruining the paper.  And the more stuff he pulled out, the clearer it became it was meant for them.

One of the reasons he didn’t think it could be from me was because it had hard boiled eggs in it.

I like memories like this one, they always make me smile.

That is so sweet!

Posted by DonnaB @ Friday, March 17, 2006 - 4:15:39 PM

Don’t miss pot one bit, made me very lazy. I made Thanksgiving dinner for my whole family my first year out on my own, my dad believed that everyone else brought the food. They assured him that, no, I had indeed cooked the whole meal. He was so flabbergasted, his daughter didn’t cook, she was a “career woman”. He said later that night when he and I were alone in the kitchen cleaning up and preparing my beautiful pumpkin pie and some coffee for everyone “you are a great reflection on your mother and I, you are strong, independent, can build a bookshelf, fix the sink, do everyone’s taxes AND COOK”. The odd things we remember…he made me strive to do.

Posted by Donna @ Friday, March 17, 2006 - 7:32:08 PM

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lisaviolet is sixty something, married with no kids, takes care of lots of cats, likes taking photographs, loves Southern California weather and spends altogether too much time avoiding her responsibilities.

In her spare time, she makes pretty things to sell in her store.

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