A reprieve, for now.

Happy, weird Easter.

For those who celebrate the holiday, I hope you've shared the day with family and friends -- together or at a distance.

A

I'm feeling the pang of traditions put on hiatus by this pandemic, eased a bit by the flurry of shared messages and photos that came pinging throughout the day.

My extended family has a dark tradition of beheading the holiday butters: bunnies, lambs, turkeys. (I think even Santa lost his head one year.)

The role of executioner rotates through the grandchildren. Don't worry, we did not traumatize them at an early age. We waited until their sense of humor veered to the dark side before handing them the butter knife.

For now, I've stashed this year’s bunny butter in our refrigerator. 

His “best by” date is July 21, and I’m hoping we’ll be able to celebrate Easter together by then.

Alas, the bunny’s next stop is the freezer.

Not sure which fate is worse.

This guy's not having the happiest of Easters.
(He is delicious, though.)

Peanut in repose.

With a camera-shy cat, sometimes you just get lucky.

I call it: Still cat with afternoon light.

It pays to look down.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

I just got back from my now almost daily walk.
So nice to see so many people channeling Mr. Rogers.
Kindness abounds.
He offered us so much good advice.
So ... let's make the most of this beautiful day.

A simple pleasure

These days especially, it's good to make things last.
Case in point, these blue beauties.
When I brought them home this week, they graced a vase for a few days.
The leaves wilted, the stems weakened, our cats knocked over the vase.
Time to say goodbye.
Then I remembered: 

When your flowers fade, you can always float them.