Easter on The Hill

Grandma Richardson lived just above us on the top of the hill. Dad sold his parents his house when he purchased a lot just below the house. We lived in a trailer until my father was able to construct the BIG BLACK HOUSE. Actually it was not a hudge house, it was of average size, but for me it was enormous (until I later visited the house and of course it seemed small).

Grandma's house on the other hand was small but very traditional. It was constructed I think in the 40's. It was a box with just the right amount of space for a kitchen, living room and one or two bedrooms. I remember the basic design but not much else.

What I remember the most was the white picket fence to the front of the house and the various contours of the small yard in front and the back yard which was right on a steep incline going down to our house.

Instead of a garage there was a carport, which is sort of an open garage. Buford, grandma's dog loved to lie in the shade of the garage. Old buford was so old that his hair was a little matty. His hair color was a little like a rich brown cappuccino. I think he was a collie.
One time we had an easter egg hunt. My mother hid a number of eggs around the yard and it was our job to find them. Grandma had made an easter meal of sorts and we kids spent our time outside looking for the eggs and playing on the lawn. I don't remember how many I found or where they were hidden. I suppose it will come back to me some day.

What I remember was how happy I was, the smell of grass, the cool brease, floating things like blowies in the air. The sound of distant traffic on King Road, birds and barking dogs.

It's too bad we dont remember much more than a few snap shots of special moments.

It was Easter and there was meaning in peoples faces. They were celebrating a tradition, a belief and to a certain degree, the feeling that life was ordained and that there was structure and order to these significant religious events. Church and supermarkets reminded you of these events.

Easter is one of the holiday's that is hard to grasp for children It was very hard for me. What I remember so clearly was the easter egg hunt. For me that made a lot of sense. We were always looking for our socks, shoes, library books, so why not look for eggs too!

To find the easter eggs you just had to be fast. It was like wanting to be everywhere at once. You would see one of your brothers or sister find an egg and you knew there would be other eggs close by. We would all hoard in on the find. Since I was the oldest boy I think I bullied a greater share of the eggs. This is probably why mom was harder on me than the other kids. She was the balance. All's anybody would have to do was to call out MAAAUUUMMM then say CHRIS and add whatever complaint was necessary. It worked. I knew and mom knew that if I didn't stop then it would be the wooden spoon. Sometimes my brothers and sister over did the MOM thing. It was a neat way to get back at me.

Mom boiled the eggs and experimented on how to color them designing eggs that should have been in a fine arts exhibition rather than being in our dirty clutches. We also had the pleasure of creating a mess with colors. That was the great thing about mom and dad. Unlike most other parents we were encouraged to be creative, which meant being messy was ok! Later, however we didn't exactly pass on this benefit to our own kids. Most of us kids liked a tidy and organized environment. Creativity was in habitat was for our childhood.

I don't think we found all of the Easter Eggs, there are probably some eggs still hidden around grandma's old house. I would like to think that they are still waiting for us to find them. Maybe in our dreams. There is a purple one with yellow stars high up in the top of an old tree that was once a sapling.