Quantifying

36 eggs. I went through 36 eggs in one day.

 

No, not hard boiled, though I do kind of regret not remembering or finding the time to color eggs with the kids. But on the other hand, they haven’t expressed any sadness in not having done it.

 

By the time Saturday was done, I’d made 6 quiches, 24 dinner rolls, and 2 egg bakes. All in the name of Easter. Well, not in the name of Easter, but for the events happening on Easter.

 

Even though Jenni’s not working in a church right now, we still get to have obligations at church because we have 3 kids. And traditionally, Easter has been the time for the youth to serve a breakfast to church as a fundraiser. So somehow, actually a couple of months ago, I somehow committed myself to making four quiches and two egg bakes as our contribution.

 

And as long as I was making four quiches for others, I needed to make 2 for us…Jenni and Hannah in particular love my quiches.

 

All turned out well: the fundraiser was very successful, and the breakfast was good.

 

But those rolls…Oh, those rolls.

 

I really need to learn to tell myself to stop and relax for a minute when I’m tearing through cooking projects. Because if I’m reading a recipe, I tend to end up not reading something correctly. At Thanksgiving, I forgot eggs in the rolls. And yesterday, I actually basically tripled the amount of called for in the recipe. As it turned out, it was no big deal, but I’m something of a cooking perfectionist: I try to make things just right, and when they don’t turn out just right, it drives me a bit nuts.

 

I was sure that the yeasty flavor was going to be too much. But Jenni and the kids tried one and assured me it would be OK. I’ve just got to pay attention to the recipe when making breads…A teaspoon and tablespoon aren’t the same thing.

 

Easter at mom and dad’s was great. It’s one of those traditions that I love–lamb, which for whatever reason, I never have any other time of the year, has always been the centerpiece of mom’s dinner. It’s such a tradition that one year in North Dakota, for an Easter dinner we were hosting for friends in town, I had to special order a leg of lamb from the grocery store because it wasn’t something they either stocked or could easily get. Actually, the funniest part of the story is the look I got from the butcher who just sort of looked at me like I was nuts. But I had a reputation to live up to as the weird new guy in town.

 

As always, my kids loved their time playing with their cousins. and we grown-ups had a good time talking after dinner about a whole variety of subjects.

 

But Monday’s knocking–just around the corner, in fact. And this week is back to the normal: the girls are back to school after spring break, so everyone’s going in their own directions in the morning. I’m off to bed to rest up for the onslaught.

 

See you tomorrow.