Family: A potpourri of Easter egg hunts, music and politics

The election is a thing of the past.

Albertans have spoken.

They wanted change and that’s what they got.

It hasn’t changed much at my house however.

Political discussions still rage, ebbing and flowing like the current of a winding, meandering river.

I was surprised that such a political discussion would happen on Easter Sunday, of all things.

But then I had no time for such intellectual pursuits.

I was trying to figure out how to turn an old closet door and a couple of sawhorses into an extra table and make it look lovely and Easter like.

And, somehow I did it.

It was a wonderful Easter weekend with Mother Nature coming totally on board and helping out with the a generous splash of golden sunshine to brighten up the world with her own amazing handiwork.

The grass also seemed greener probably because it was. It seems to get greener every day.

Soon the rich green colour will spread to reach the leaves on the trees and then the whole green colour scheme will be broken up with blossoms of every hue and shade you can imagine.

It’s called the season of spring and it happens in front of our eyes.

We just have to sit back, observe and be grateful.

Anyway, back to Easter.

“Do not go overboard on Easter this year, mom,” my daughter said sternly.

“Don’t buy the kids a lot of stuff and don’t let dad worry about the Easter egg hunt, either. He is really busy doing income tax for people and he is probably too tired, anyway.”

Of course, we ignored her.

I bought way too much candy for the kids. I then bought a bunch of fake green grass and plopped it all into cute little red ‘Canada’ hats and filled them with candy and fake green grass and called it a wrap.

My husband, alias, Peter L. Rabbit, proceeded with the Easter egg hunt.

He decided this year, to call on our home Google to help him out with the clues.

“Hey Google,” he said about two million times. “Remind me of Dylan’s clue or Jackson’s clue or Emilies’ or one of the other children.”

“I’m sorry I don’t know how to help with that yet,” Google replied about two million times.

I knew this was serious stuff and refrained, but barely, from bursting into gales of laughter every time I heard him argue with Google.

So while my husband and Google played verbal ping-pong, I proceeded to run around doing human stuff.

Weird how somebody has to do that. The robots may be coming, but they’re not here yet.

Despite Google’s lack of co-operation, it all came together and the Easter egg hunt went off in a traditional manner with the kids struggling to find their clues and the moms and dads discretely helping them.

And, for a few short hours in time, it was nothing more and nothing less than organized confusion with little people and big people all over the place.

I was very happy, but worried. Was there enough ham? Why were my scalloped potatoes runny? Why were the vegetables not hot? Was there enough buns? Did we need more chairs? Was everyone getting enough to eat?

I ran my practiced hostess eye over both tables and everyone seemed to be okay so I guessed it was, in fact, okay.

The meal finished, my son-in-laws whom I loved quite fiercely at that moment, took over cleaning up the kitchen.

I would like to take this moment to say thank you to their mothers! You did a great job with your sons.

And then, quietly, my oldest granddaughter whispered to me these lovely words, “grandma, I brought my violin if you want to play the piano with me later.”

I’ve always said that music can soften the edges of the harshest day.

And, somehow, when I looked into the depths of my granddaughter’s lovely, smiling eyes, I knew that I had somehow found a soulmate.

“Let’s do that,” I replied.

And so we did!

And that’s when the political discussion around the table grew somewhat heated and lively.

But, luckily we had the music to soften the staccato notes of opinion.

And drown out the words!

Treena Mielke is the editor of the Rimbey Review.

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