Pre-Party Party

Our Easter party is kind of a big deal. It's been a tradition for almost thirty years now -- a big potluck and egg hunt on Easter Sunday. We've watched kids hunt eggs, grow up, and now they're bringing their kids to hunt for eggs. But that's tomorrow. Today the story is the preparty.

My sons' friends begin arriving as early as Wednesday night, and they continue to trickle in till on Saturday we have a full crew of experienced crepe paper twirlers, balloon blowers, decoration bestowers -- all busy transforming my husband's woodworking shop into a venue for our Easter party.

Our friend Bob, (the original of the Doc Adams who twice appears in the Elizabeth stories) hangs quilts for me -- any new ones that our group of friends and quilters have made in the past year, plus others from previous years to fill out the space. My husband starts the pork slow-cooking; Sarah, here on her yearly visit from Nicaragua, hangs some branches of flowering quince with decorated eggs from past years; folks who haven't seen each other for twelve months catch up on one another's doings while dogs (the eleven that live here on our farm and the four that are visiting) weave in and out of the groups of people, adding to the general ambiance.

By dark, food is out in the barn where the pork is cooking -- hot dogs, chicken, London broil, baked beans, cole slaw, potato salad, deviled eggs, green salad, roasted vegetables, apple crisp, cookies, and the ingredients for s'mores. The pre-partiers gather around the fire outside and fortify themselves.

The actual party is tomorrow.