Allelujia

In my tender years from ages eight to twelve, every Easter I would compose an Allelujia. Now I never composed anything else except once a song about my cat, but year after year I set out to compose my Eastern paean. Strange, no? Lately, I have come to like the child I once was. She seems sympathetic, if a little odd.

In Denver, the big thing at Easter was to visit an ampitheater west of town for the sunrise services. Are Easter sunrise services still held, or was this a Colorado Thing? No idea.

My Sunday school teacher always invited the class to her farm home for an Easter Sunrise Breakfast. Mrs. Olsen could cook! Homemade sticky buns are what I remember most. She belonged to the WCTU and tried to make us sign pledges when we were in 6th grade. I never did. We lived on the High Plains east of Denver, and the sun came up over the flat prairie. It almost never rained. Back then, it was de riguer to have a new Easter outfit. Dress, shoes, coat and hat. My mother always photographed me in my new finery. One of these days we'll have a picture show. Promise you won't laugh?

A week and a half ago I was at Wrentham Mall on a weekday and yes, it was cold and dreary, but the place was empty. Twelve days before Easter and no one shopping for outfits. That seemed weird. Probably there aren't many not-very-musical ten year olds composing Allelujias either. Different times, different everything.

Speaking of times, the NY Times Best Seller list is instructive.

Out of 15 books, 5 are either Dan Brown or knockoffs. Except for Danielle Steele, everything else is a thriller or mystery. Seven books are by women, so there is parity.

On the paperback list, lucky Dan has not only # 1, but #6 and #9. And he won that stupid frivolous lawsuit. Three books on this list are not of the mystery/thriller variety.

I am reading a book about the making of the Panama Canal, 600+ pages and it may take as long to read as it did to dig the canal, well, maybe not quite.

We had Smoked Pork Butt au Gratin for dinner today. The NY Times magazine had an article about "Porkette," and I realized Porkette and Smoke Pork Butt are one and the same. It's a good size cut for two people. Remember: eternity is two people and a ham. There are them who would say that was paradise, but not me.

All the kids' stuffed rabbits are sitting in a basket in the living room looking rather astonished. We had to get rid of the plastic grass because Annie the Cat was eating it.

Behave yourself and don't nibble the Easter grass.

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