For those not in my family, let me tell you about our Easter, so that you can understand what Mr Scorpio is talking about.
Our family is from Holland, well mum and dad are, and Mr Scorpio is an old friend (and I do mean old as well as long-standing) of mum and dad's and he and his wife come along to our family celebrations each year. They're good company, they bring their own beer and wine and we all have a good laugh.
So being Dutch, we have a tradition of colouring hard-boiled eggs on the Saturday night before Easter Sunday. It's all about the kids really. Mum usually boils 3 dozen eggs and that night we sit down with markers, crayons and pots of food dye and let our creative skills go wild. It's messy, but it's lots of fun.
The next morning, "Easter bunny" hides all the eggs in the yard, along with some chocolate goodies and the young kids go on an Easter egg hunt. This year, I think Mr. Scorpio joined in though. It's fun for the kids and sometimes it's really hard to find them all. I think we had one year when the dog dug one up 3 months later!!
After all the eggs have been found, the competition ensues. Each persons takes a hard boiled egg and holds it in such a way that it sits in the palm of the hand with the thumb, forefinger and middle finger clasped around it, exposing the 'pointy end' of the egg. Next, you hit your egg against another egg to see which one cracks. If yours doesn't, you win. Apparently this year someone played on my behalf and I won. That's great because I haven't won in years. The act of cracking the eggs against one another is called 'tooking' (that's the pronunciation, but not sure if it's the write spelling, I think it's a dutch word). So there you go, that's what Mr Scorpio was on about.
I miss Easter, thanks Mr S.
2 comments:
Old Mr Scorpio decided to check your blog post because it is Monday morning.
Your proxy with the contest by the way was me. It is the first time ever I have won and I could not claim it because I said this egg was for Jo. This makes you a good egg?
Being Monday some Dutch mother (yours), my dear wife (in case she reads this) and one other woman from down the road meet here. If I am home I am driven emotionally to hide elsewhere while they blather on over a few cups of coffee.
This gang of three appear to have formed a sort of coven that currently falls 10 short of that normally required to work potent black magic.
The best they have done so far is to drive me out of the room on a regular basis.
Your blasted father encourages Liz to come here on Monday I am sure.
That is only a guess though.
So somehow, tactfully (for me) and as surreptitiously as necessary I will corroborate today if my suspicions about your father supporting the meetings here are correct.
Your brother will be along shortly to pick up some electrical bits and by then two of the three reasons for me cringing in the back room will also have left for another week.
Enjoy the day.
It's Monday morning and I am laughing. Thanks. I don't know if anybody else reading this will understand what you're on about, but I do.
I think that Dad would support any meetings that required mum to go somewhere so that he could sit in his chair in peace.
By the time you read this, you should be free to roam around your house again without any need to cringe.
Cheers
The Good Egg.
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