Wednesday, 27 March 2013


Easter morning tea at work today means that my tummy is making me happy and angry: so full, so content and so ROUND. 

I like Easter very much, which is weird for an atheist (agnostic previously…but atheist seems to fit better now?)  It’s not the chocolate that makes me Easter-ish because 2002-2005 I ate my way around a choc factory up to 6 times a day as a tour guide and now I am largely ambivalent about milk chocolate (still keen on marshmallow eggs and the occasional crème egg, but if you hand me a white choc crème egg I think I’ll be sick.  Absolutely cannot look a peppy chew in the eye either. DO NOT SPEAK to me about crunchie bars.) 

It annoys the bejesus out of me that the shops are closed for Good Friday and Easter Sunday when I need something, but that’s just because I’m a modern Millie who has come to expect a life of convenience.  Actually spending the day knowing that you can’t just pop down to the off-y or supermarket is kind of nice.  Enforced time en famille, shall we say?  Means the queues tonight and Saturday for petrol etc will be a complete clusterfuck though, so there’s that.  And trying to drive ANYWHERE over the next 24 hours? Please, my affinity for the Auckland motorway (so handy! So convenient!) does not extend to spending three hours in gridlock on it. 

My affection for Easter probably has a lot to do with a four day holiday.  What’s not to love about that?  This year, however, we’re not doing too much with it, spot of rellie-visiting, bit o’ open-homing (of course).  Easter last year?  I believe that was spent in London?  Don’t quote me on that?  OH THAT’S RIGHT – just delved the archives – being involved in train confrontations and getting sick in Edinburgh!  The year before, we were with my parents in France, just before P proposed.  Beeee-youtiful; printemps en Bordeaux et Toulouse.  I believe we spent the Sunday in St Emilion, where P was pissed that people had closed tastings at the vineyards.  That and I believe he was stressed about speaking to my father prior to proposing (I’m not sure he’s dumb enough to have asked for permission literally because I would have had his balls tied around a tree in a hot minute if he’d done that; I’ve been led to believe it was more a ‘I’d like to marry your daughter and I hope you’re down with that’ – to which I understand the response was ‘Weeeeeell, if you can get her to say yes…’).

Side note: I LOVE it when women have a tab on their blog entitled “Love Story” or similar and you can follow their relationship history.  Seriously, it’s adorably funny and addictive.  I’ve talked about the v v beginning of my relationship with P before and gushed about him on occasion, but I can’t get up a head of steam to write something like that.  Mostly because it would probably read “Met P.  Pashed P.  Drank with P.  Moved in with P.  And then squillionty eleven years later, got married because it’s important to P and also awesomely fun”.  Not really an interesting storyline.  Also, I guess it’s his story too? 

Anyway, that is all an extremely long-winded way of saying: Easter.  I’m not doing much but I will like it.  Hope you do too – whether it’s church, chocs or travels that float your boat.  Drive safe. 

PS Marriage equality debate last night in committee – let’s get the third reading passed quick smart! Equality is the business!

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