Easter morning at the old red-brick farmhouse of my childhood started off with an Easter basket (I had to sneak one or two pieces of candy before the big country breakfast) and some sort of stuffed animal. Then there were the church services at our little Baptist church, followed by a wonderful meal. Mama would usually fix ham, deviled eggs, fruit salad, homemade rolls, my favorite lime-pineapple congealed salad and other dishes, followed by dessert–coconut cake, perhaps or an egg custard pie. All washed down, of course, with sweet tea. In the afternoon, weather permitting, we had an Easter egg hunt, my older sister Sara and I having dyed a goodly supply of them earlier. I can still smell that vinegar we mixed with the color tablets in those big melamine coffee cups . . .
Easter eggs (Photo credit: StSaling)
Easter Sunday at St Andrew's (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
"EASTER EGG ROLLING, WHITE HOUSE" "1 negative : glass ; 5 x 7 in. or smaller" (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Deviled Eggs shot during the Inaugural Portable Potluck Project on March 23, 2008. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
And Easter Sunday meant new Easter outfits. As a child, I was always well and truly decked out from head to toe.
My mother was an excellent seamstress and made many lovely outfits and costumes for my older sisters and me over the years. But when Easter was approaching, she would visit Planter’s Mercantile in Greenville to shop for a frilly “store-bought” dress with a crinoline skirt. Lace-trimmed socks also were a must in white or pastel to match the dress, along with white gloves, white patent Mary Janes, a white wicker purse and a little bonnet for my blonde head.
While I love hats now, I didn’t care for them as a tot. There is a blurry photo of my older sister attempting to chase me down and tie said bonnet to my head. Oh, and I nearly forgot. Underneath all my Easter finery I wore a pair of “Rhumba panties,” the seat of which were covered in rows of frills. In the days before seat belts and child safety seats, I would stand on the floor hump behind the front bench seat of our green station wagon. My sisters just couldn’t resist poppiing my panties, much to my chagrin. I was always getting picked on–the lot of the youngest child. I wonder if Richard was teased by his older brother? And when he eats a chocolate bunny, does he start with the ears?
At any rate, here are some lovely Easter bonnets “with all the frills upon it” from around the world.