I am humbled, looking at some of my fellow-bloggers' Easter meals and decor. My own Easter experience stands in stark contrast. We are in a season of crazy in our lives currently, one for which the mantra, "This, too, shall pass . . ." has been a most comforting coping mechanism. Nothing new, just our ongoing saga of attempting to keep our son's migraines at bay while maintaining some modicum of emotional balance. The life sentence of "mother's worry" is growing to a fever pitch as I watch the remaining weeks for Hans to catch up on everything dwindle to fewer than a handful. In the midst of this , new approaches are employed, with different doctors, meds, an upcoming MRI, appointments with alternative practitioners, school counselors, all ready to be cancelled at a moment's notice because of a headache or an opportunity for a make-up exam. I've taken up meditation again. Ahhhhh.
So . . . Easter at the Salinas household: There were baskets in the morning. I didn't go to the basement in search of seasonal decor. I didn't think about Easter dinner until 2:00 p.m. We all were hungry at once, without a plan. "How about Chipotle?" I asked, feeling like a loser. All agreed upon the idea. I drove to Chipotle with my list of orders, to find it closed up tight as a drum. Oh yeah . . . Easter. I drove to Kroger to buy fixings for a reasonable facsimile of a Chipotle meal. Oh, and eggs and dye -- afterthought. By the time I returned, the hungry anticipation was palpable. The table was set with glasses of water and accoutrements for a takeout meal. You should have seen the faces as I explained the change in plan. Nobody wanted to wait for me to cook. I put the groceries away and we went out in search of a restaurant not closed for the holiday.
So I made my homemade Chipotle buffet the next day. It was a big hit. Really all I made was very fabulous guacamole (don't skimp on the lime juice or minced jalapeno), my fresh salsa and a pot of brown rice. All the other ingredients were fresh and organic though, and everyone chose their favorites. We never did get around to dying the eggs.
In other news:
Mailbox mishap -- one of our neighbors ran OVER our mailbox as he backed out of the driveway, pulling the concrete clean out of the ground. Admittedly, our driveway is a challenge. We didn't hear it since we were enjoying a concert DVD at the time, but neighbors in the cul de sac said the crash was alarmingly loud as the heavy, cast-aluminum box crashed onto the pavement. The impact knocked the paint off the pole. Like many other humorous neighborhood stories, this will go down in the annals of the history of our tight-knit community.
Because of a Homeowners' Association, popping up to Home Depot to get a replacement was not an option. A couple of days went by as we located the company which provided the mailboxes when we all moved in, over 10 years ago. They no longer manufacture this model, but we were able to find similar parts and rebuild and repaint our mailbox. It's now ship-shape, but a week passed with no mail delivered. I guess the mailman didn't want to step out of his truck to fill the box sitting on a curb. I would not have minded the break from post except for the whole Playstation 3 security breach.
Do you have gamers in your household? Long story short, my son enjoys online video gaming, and recently it was discovered that Playstation 3's online data was hacked on April 17. Sony kept this information hushed for about a week before they admitted what had happened and advised users "in an abundance of caution" to deactivate credit cards which had been used on the site. Attempting to discern exactly which of my credit cards were at risk, my son and I tried to check the Playstation site for the information. Right- Playstation online is closed for the foreseeable future as they try to lessen the impact of the breach. Plan B -- Carefully check all credit card statements for suspicious activity during the period in question -- right -- no credit card statements. I wasn't getting any mail. my mailbox had been flattened. I found myself in a perfect storm for identity theft. The mailman says he will bring all my old mail on Monday. I'll keep you "posted" no pun intended.