Well, it's exactly five days after Easter Sunday. And it snowed. Buckets. Actually, there's nothing on the ground here in Santa Fe. It looks more like we just had a heavy rain. The mountains, however, are completely white. All the more important then, that we savor last Saturday night's rite of spring. Our buds Kate and Paul came over (above) and we made an Easter tree like we used to when I was a kid.
Before they arrived, Tommy and I went outside to pick an appropriate branch. He wanted one that was perfectly proportioned but dead. I wanted a live one from the peach tree with its fragrant pink blooms. I persevered, and won the argument, but when we brought the thing into the house, it set off my allergies and I was sneezing so much I couldn't enjoy our guests. So I took a Benedryl. And got really drowsy. And stopped caring about anything. Then Paul drank some beer and got as lethargic as me. Luckily Kate and Tommy plowed through (as seen below).
Briefly, we talked about Easter's roots as a fertility ritual, hence the eggs and bunnies.
So, Tommy made some fertility interpretations of his own. Yep kids, it's the Easter Sperm.
Tommy's huevos.
Paul drinks beer on the Easter couch.
1 comment:
And that's exactly what you have, isn't it -- an Easter couch. Your couch is so smokin' that I have found myself daydreaming about it. Okay, probably only once, but still. It has happened. Dig your (Tommy and Kate's) eggs. Sorry you were drugged out. Yay, spring!
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