I am quite tired of this weather. It is chilly at 44°. The sun is just ornamental, but the deep blue sky is breathtaking. The pine branches are swaying with the breeze. I have a few chores, the same chores I’ve had on my list for a while. I just need a burst of energy.

My street is small, nine houses. One is a summer rental and another is a second house, an empty house right now. The family comes down in the summer. They have a boat. Two houses still have school age kids. Mostly retired people live in the other houses. Two of the houses still have original owners. Mine is one of them. It is quite the quiet street. Houses go dark early. The street has no streetlights. My lights are on far later than at any other house. I own the world after midnight.

When I was a kid, the street lights were an alarm. As soon as they came on, you could hear some mothers yelling out the doors at their kids to come home. It was a nighttime ritual for every kid on the street.When I went into the house, my mother was always preparing supper. I’d plunk down in front of the TV, close enough to go blind and stay there until supper was ready. We’d eat supper and then watch more TV until bedtime. I’d read in bed until I got caught and was forced to turn off the light.

My bicycle came out of hibernation sometime in April. It was chilly riding it downhill. The wind whipped at my face. I’d sometimes wear a sweater under my spring jacket. I’d ride with no destination in mind. Some routes were close. Other routes were far away. I seldom saw any other bicyclists.

In those days there was still a town barn with a few horses. It was on a street behind the town hall. I’d stop and watch the horses for a while. They didn’t do much. Mostly they just chewed hay. There was a dairy farm. It was at the edge of town. It was one of my favorite stops. There was a zoo. It is still there. At the golf courses I’d stop and check for errant balls. Sometimes they were across the street on a lawn. Other times they were in gutters along the road. I thought the balls were a bounty. I never gave thought to the golfers whose golf balls went so far astray.

On Saturdays I’d ride around most of the day checking out all my favorite spots, maybe even seeing the train. To the young me, my town was a treasure. I loved exploring it. I always thought it was almost bigger than life.

I swear I saw what appeared to be a rabbit, but it was bundled, dressed in a winter coat, knit hat and mittens. I saw his breath in the air. Poor rabbit!

The temperature is 53° but it feels much colder. It is cloudy and windy. Rain is likely. I have no plans for the day so I’ll leave my frilly dress and patent leather shoes in the closet.

When I woke up on Easter morning, I made a beeline to my basket. The first thing I always saw was the chocolate rabbit standing up straight. I went for the ears. While I was chomping, I checked out the rest of the basket. I was never disappointed.

When I was an adult, we all still went to my parents’ house for Easter dinner. My mother had baskets for us filled with some candy and small gifts, like earrings. I made her a basket. One year I found an Easter stocking and used it as her basket. It stretched and held all the goodies for my mother. My father’s basket had lots of candy. He loved candy. He used to hide the candy dish filled with Hershey miniatures and Reese’s. That made no difference. We all knew his hiding place. My brother and his family came and always brought my mother a lily.

I was my mother’s sous-chef. We started on the dinner the night before. I sat at the kitchen table cutting vegetable while she was at counter readying other dishes. It was fun to be together chatting and listening to music.That gave us a head start for Easter dinner. I used to set the table with a tablecloth and my mother’s dishes. I put flowers in a vase for the middle of the table, flowers with spring colors. She had a few rabbit dishes we filled with vegetables. The table was wonderfully festive. Dinner was delicious.

I wish you a wonderful Easter Sunday. I hope your baskets are teeming with goodies. I’m guessing the rabbits have no ears.

The morning sky did have a bit of blue earlier, but it got overrun quickly by clouds. It is 48°. Henry is outside barking at a ghost. I used to check to see what he was barking at but mostly I found nothing. He is the dog who cried intruder. My house is quiet. Nala is upstairs on my bed taking her morning nap, but she did have her time in the spotlight. She stole a package of dog treats. I had seen the package in the yard and didn’t know what it was so I went to investigate. On the way, I picked up an empty dog food can, an empty cat food can and some unrecognizable trash. It is no wonder Nala needs a nap.

I have a few house chores and I need to put more books in my little library. That’s it on my dance card. I’m going to spend the rest of the day reading and relaxing. I am only missing the bon bons.

Santa keeps lists. When I was little, if I did something my mother didn’t like, she threatened to tell Santa to put me on the naughty list. She kept me in thrall with that threat. Now that I’m older, much older, I have some questions. Where did naughty come from? I only heard it used around Christmas and in old children’s books. Good and bad would have been just fine. What about the poor Easter Bunny? Santa was incentive. We didn’t want to cross him. The Easter Bunny left baskets no matter how good or naughty we were. Granted, Santa’s gifts were far better, and how would the Easter Bunny carry a bike or a sled in his basket and was all that chocolate worth it? The biggest question is hotly debated. Why is a bunny bringing eggs?

The bunny always left us great Easter baskets. In every basket was always a chocolate bunny. The ears went first. Jelly beans were loose. They were the big beans. Every bean tasted the same. Yellow Peeps were a given as were small, round pieces of chocolate covered in decorative aluminum. Big, colored candy eggs were hard to bite. Their insides were white. Sometimes there was a stuffed bunny, always a bunny. Small toys like jacks and a Fl-back paddle were sometimes in the basket. In my Ghana Easter package, I got a Fli-Back. My friend Bill and I had nightly competitions to see who could go longer without the ball missing the paddle. We were great. I’m talking well over 100 then tragedy struck. The elastic broke. We tied it, but it never worked right again. We lamented the loss.

My candy peeps are open to the air, hardening. That’s the only way I liked them. They arrived in Ghana that way. I have no Easter plans. I didn’t buy new patent leather shoes or a pouffy dress. I’ll be casual and comfy.