Monday, April 5, 2010

Here Comes Peter Cottontail...

Happy Easter!

It was a pretty good one for the St. Clair house...though I don't think one single jelly bean, chocolate bunny or Reese's peanut butter egg was consumed. The only thing that was missing was relaxation and family.

Saturday night Luke went out with friends from work. I had to work until 11 that night, and joined him later, after he'd already been out for about 3 hours. I brought some of my coworkers to the Bayou, and we had a nice evening of beer tasting, cocktails, and southern food. I think poor Luke had had too much at that point, and teetered to stay awake for about an hour before we left.

Sunday morning, we slept in late, but it was a rough morning for the hubby. We sure can't drink like we used to, a hard-to-swallow fact as we head into our later twenties. But, all can still be (mostly) cured with some eggs and french toast, so off we went for Easter breakfast to the Coachman. A Salt Lake landmark, which hasn't seen a decorator since 1963 and keeps the food cheap by not taking credit cards. After all the time I've been in Utah, I haven't eaten here. Traditionally, Dee's is our place. I think this one is a close second.

We slowly ate our way through an omelette and some french toast and hash browns. It was definitely a morning that we wished could have ended with a good 3 hour nap, but unfortunately, I'm still working weekends, so I dropped Luke off at his car (he left it at the Bayou the night before) and off to work I went.

It always amazes me how much news happens on holidays that are supposed to celebrate peace. Apparently when families come together, it's not always a happy occasion. It's one of the paradoxes of my job: without the bad, sad and weird news, I'm left struggling to scrape together a show on Sundays, which are typically the slowest news day of the week. While people claim to want happy news, it sure doesn't boost my ratings. You get a front row seat to the ugly, malicious, but sometimes miraculous dealings of humanity. Sometimes, it's too revolting to air to the general public, or the victims need protecting from further trauma. Sometimes, it's a refresher to take life one day at a time, that soon it will all be over, that in moments, your life can come crashing down around your ankles, and your left with nothing but whatever strength you have in your soul to muster onward.

Take a breath, smell the new daffodils, and the peace of Christ be with you.