Every Day is a Holday 'Round These Parts

Easter brings a four day weekend to Germany (and lots of other countries too...no need in believing we're the only ones to have an Easter Monday as though Christ resurrected twice or something). Since neither B nor I work outside our home it doesn't mean any time off for us - B has to be cared for no matter what date is on the calendar. Instead of thinking of holidays as a day or two away from work we tend to think of holidays as days when stores are closed and TV programming is screwed up. Looking for a Bud Spencer and Terrence Hill flick? Just wait until a holiday rolls around and you'll be sure to fine one. Or five.

On occasion we have visitors on holidays - Christmas and Easter being the two primary ones - but otherwise we hunker down alone. We sleep later and jammies are worn longer and our meals tend to be simpler unless it's one of those holidays when tables groaning with food are required. We watch a lot of movies and eat cake. If the weather is fitting I like to go for walks because holidays are the one time when my neighborhood is absolutely dead. Sundays are quiet here but holidays are like living in a ghost town. Walking around our neighborhood at 8am on a holiday will give one that Omega Man sort of feeling.

Holidays are also the time when B and I will sit around and just talk and tell one another stories from our younger years that revolve around whatever holiday we're currently celebrating. This year B and I discussed how we dyed Easter eggs (I was a little surprised to hear that, being as he grew up in East Germany and all, that he had Easter egg dying kits like I did) and B got to hear the story about how one of my brothers took the colorless wax crayon that came in the egg dying kit, wrote "fart" on the egg, dyed it, and my other brother and I thought it was the funniest thing in the world and the only thing that made it funnier was that our mother never caught on to the naughty egg! And we wouldn't tell her why we were laughing so much! And we laughed even harder the next day when the offending egg ended up in my Easter basket!

B didn't laugh all that hard at the story. I chalk it up to him growing up an only child. What does he know anyway? He's been known to watch Bud Spencer and Terrence Hill movies.