Good Friday Eve

I think Easter would be quite low on my list of Holiday Favourites, but it's nice, I suppose. It's probably the wandering nature of its date that puts me off a bit. If I knew when the weekend would fall each year, I could get into a rhythm with it and look forward to it. When it leaps around the calendar like a kangaroo in a minefield, I find it hard to get enthusiastic.
But it's here, and it's an excuse for indulgence, and it means my children are having a break from school, so that's all good. Not that I'm getting to see much of them, of course. Too busy providing entertainment and activities for other little ones to spend time with my own, but there we are - that is the reality of the life that Philippa and I inhabit at the moment and so we just make the best of it, as best we can.
Personally, I am not going for a big Easter Egg this year. A weird thing seems to be happening with my taste buds and my metabolism and I seem to be getting less and less attracted to chocolate. I still have my favourites, of course, and a packet of Munchies will sing to me from a supermarket shelf as loudly as a siren from The Odyssey, but generally speaking I can happily go weeks without even a square of Dairy Milk entering my mouth. Maybe I ate my lifetime allocation of chocolate back in my teens and twenties, and now it's time to cut it out completely. My wife and children, on the other hand, seem able to inhale greater quantities of sweet stuff every day without any hint of nausea or weight gain. So our kitchen treat cupboard at home currently has rather a large amount of Easter-relevant goodies, chief of which is a collection of Biscoff Creme Eggs. I have been reliably informed, by more than one correspondent, that they are 'better than orgasms'.

RC 2-4-26