Showing posts with label Easter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Easter. Show all posts

Sunday, April 9, 2023

🌻HAPPY EASTER! Adorable newborn goats!🌞


This is the best thing I've ever seen. Within minutes, these tiny kids are on their wobbly legs while Mama Goat licks them. Happy Easter, everyone!

Sunday, April 1, 2018

O Happy, Joyous Eastertide!





Lines Written in Early Spring


I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:—
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?

William Wordsworth



Spring

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring –
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden. – Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.

Gerard Manley Hopkins



Spring-loaded

April’s where I live,
            the place my heart opens
                    rose-burgeoning, shinyleaf-new

a smell of bursting peonies,
              bumble-dizzy bees bumping
                       butter-and-eggs

swollen buds thrusting
             in the lovesick air.

Leaden, laden, leavened, lavendered, loaded,
one big quivering nose, a moist surprise
hatched out in the nest of my body

April Pegasus-leaps
      in my pulse,

sun-shot                 Pan-piped
           heady, relentlessly

tender,
recklessly

sweet.

Margaret Gunning                                                                


Friday, April 14, 2017

Creepy Easter bunnies!





I wasn't gonna do it. No, I mean I REALLY wasn't gonna do it - that thing I do every year, where I find photos of really hideous, creepy, scary Easter bunnies and post them here. As a matter of fact, I've barely thought of Easter at all this year - that wonderful time of violent death and bloody crufixion and Cadbury cream eggs.

Then somebody asked me, "So what are you guys doing for Easter?"

I thought: you mean we have to DO something? I thought Easter was a holiday, and the whole purpose of a holiday was to do nothing.

Then I told myself: no, Margaret, you will NOT make a photo montage of Easter bunnies in hideous costumes with screaming little kids attempting to flee from them. It's sadistic, isn't it? - because these little kids aren't just upset or uncomfortable. They are TERRIFIED. They fear for their lives. They hold their arms out begging for rescue, while their parents. . . their parents take pictures.

These montages at least explain WHY kids cry like that. I can't say as I blame them at all.










Tuesday, April 15, 2014

S'gonna be Easter



Ain’t here yet, but
S’gonna be Easter,
That season of vinegar,
Of Paas egg kits



Now full of things like
Glitter glue and beads and
Twirly tops, whatever they are and
Foil things and
Punchout things



But when Ah was liddle it was jest aiggs
Jes’ hardboiled aigs on the kitchen tay-ble
With my brother in his worst shirt
And me in one of his worst shirts
Because I always dressed like him anyway
My mother wouldn’t spend the money
And didn’t notice



Ya dip the aig in, see, like
This sort of, and it comes out
All bright and sparkly and
Half this color and half that color and



Vinegar water with color in goes all over the table.
The thing with the most dyee of all is
Your fingertips, which are kinda like rainbows
Some so dy-eed they’re black.


No one wants to eat these aiggs, so fiddled and dipped and dried
Except Grandpa, who has one for breakfast
But everyone cried because he had to break the shell
And the smell of sulphur was really something awful.


Aigs, aigs, these are Easter egges,
Representing the tomb of Christ, the stone rolled away
The Resurrection of hatching
A chicken into a chick
And dipped fingers
And childhood returned, and returned, and returned


Once again.

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Easter terror: bunnies from hell




It wouldn't be Easter without a few of these. I've found some that look suspiciously doctored, so I won't use them. What stands out is the terror and dismay on the faces of the children. Why? Why would anyone be afraid of an old man in long pink underwear and erectile ears putting his arm around you, when you KNOW you're not supposed to talk to strangers? Why would you take candy from them, when Mom and Dad have jackhammered it into your little head that you are NOT supposed to do that, ever? I am sure this is why small children scream and cry at the Easter Bunny and Santa and all those other creepy characters, until custom and convention slowly wear down their natural instinct to survive.




Why must Easter bunnies look like Fascist dictators? Why must their heads be larger than their bodies? Would this scare YOU?






The Space Alien bunny is a genre unto itself. They're really here to harvest our children.






I'd like to know who would sit down and design a costume like this. There are apparently no holes for oxygen, so let's hope the guy suffocated.




This is my personal favorite. Don't be fooled by the frightened smile on the little girl's face. She's just trying to get it over with as soon as possible.