good flushers.

A couple nights ago, I helped out at Locavore’s Night Out.  It was an event by local food providers and it was just ah-mazing.  [some of the best food of my life.]

But it was over the hill [in Idaho], which means that all the beautiful parents and their beautiful children come out of the woodwork and you realize there MUST be something in the Idaho water.  I helped with the children’s activities and preciousness just abounded.

I had to take a little potty break for myself and while I was sitting in the stall, I heard a little girl come in and tell her mother…

– Mom, you can wait for me outside, okay?  I only have to go pee-pee.  Okay?  Go outside!

– Okay, I’ll be right outside.

I chuckled to myself at this little girl’s confidence so early in life.  Then I flushed the toilet and heard…

– Oh!  That’s a nice flush!

– Haha… Why, thank you.

Containing my laughter, I washed my hands and then heard her flush her own toilet and say…

– Well, that’s a nice flush, too!  They must just have good flushers here.

I walked out before I caught a glimpse of the little one… but, my goodness, she made my night.

Happy Easter from a woman who likes to hope that somewhere in her is the preciousness of a little girl in wonderment over simple joys, gorgeous friendships, rare beauty and good flushes.

lisa and myself, easter 1987. i don't know how many times i've posted this precious picture... but i'm not sorry.

The Easter morning by myself, admittedly, made me miss my family and my dad’s scavenger egg hunt… but the refreshing aloneness of today is just wonderful.  I had a head of a chocolate Easter bunny for breakfast [left for me, with an easter lily, by a lovely deserting love.] and a cup of tea with a tag that read,

Without realizing who you are, happiness cannot come to you.”

Which I believe is absolutely true.  So this morning, I looked back at so many Easters past and really looked at who I am… trying to do some realizing.

Looking back at Lisa, my family, Easters alone, with friends and Skip-Its, with strangers in Australia, the Easter Sunday I discovered mimosas, the Easter Sunday where dad rhymed “purple” with “maple syurple”… and on and on.

And maybe you think I’m self-consumed to be thinking of myself on a holiday so holy and so blatantly about a savior [either Jesus or the Easter Bunny]… but I decided I’m not sorry.  My love for you comes from my appreciation of life, which usually comes from happiness, which [as my tea bag states] comes from a realization of who I am… which is terrifying.

Go out and own who you are and love others through that on this Easter.  Get your honey-glazed ham on and wear your favorite pastels.  I didn’t have time for a Easter dress vote-off this year:

But I assure you I will wear an Easter dress at some point today… probably yellow.


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