Milk and Eggs

I spent Easter with Jon and Judy. It was terrific—relaxed, festive, meaningful, and religious. I turned pages for Judy as she accompanied the choir. We were dressed in coral and white, a surprise to both. I sat at the low end of the piano, a few inches from the singers. I told them how good they sounded. There is something special about sitting so close to a choir that you really are able to hear individual voices. I came home with Easter treats, three colored hard-boiled eggs, an Easter lily, and a flowered bud vase. Not to mention how lovely a gift I took away of the time together. They are like no other people in so many ways. Open doors and open arms. We ate lamb with mint jelly, mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls (which Jon took credit for baking at Costco), and angel pie. I stopped short when she brought out the Lenox Peeps salt and pepper shaker set. In the kitchen, Judy finally let me help a little. We both unloaded the dishwasher and I took out a metal baking cup measure. It is ancient. She insisted I drink milk from it as metal makes the milk really cold. I did.