APPRECIATING WHAT'S THERE

        There’s absolutely nothing like spring in Seattle. I don’t know about you, but I am enjoying the sunshine and beautiful blue skies we’ve had this past week. And, tomorrow, it’s supposed to be 70 degrees. According to my weather person, the average date we usually see that temperature is April 15^th, so it’s two days late. Doesn’t matter since I’ll take it early, right on time or late.

          Every morning on my walk, there’s something new to see that my walking partner and I missed in days past or that has suddenly appeared. There’s one house we walk by every morning and last week, we found they had developed a little scene under a tree. There’s a red fence, an outhouse with a green pathway, a picnic table, gnome, swing, birdbath and pond. It’s all very tiny, but clever and beautiful. Just today, we noticed the owners had added a meerkat statue with three meerkats. The owners of this home have also installed a bench and a dog biscuit container for the use of folks like us who pass by. There’s almost always something interesting to see here.

          Over the years of making this walk, we’ve found certain trees, bushes, flowerbeds that we look forward to seeing develop, grow and then be claimed by fall and winter. There’s a pussy willow tree…imagine a big tree covered with silver gray buds that develop pollen and a become a beautiful golden color (sneeze) in the sunshine. Gorgeous. There’s another tree that hasn’t yet put forth its leaves. When it does, it is the most striking lime green and the shape is perfect.

          We also walk by a very industrious gentleman’s home. Every fall, he plants what seems to be hundreds of daffodils and tulips. It’s so enjoyable to watch them rise from the dirt and take on the different yellows and oranges. He plants tulips in groups of different colors and they develop at different times. The ones that had a single pink tulip yesterday were all pink today. The one yellow one today will undoubtedly be joined by the remainder of the clump tomorrow. 

          When the bulbs complete their blooming period and have some time to store up energy, this man will remove them from his flowerbed and replace them with dahlias. My walking partner and I eagerly await the bloom time of these as well. A couple of years ago, I wrote this man a note telling him how much we enjoyed his flowerbed every morning. I also asked if he shared his dahlia bulbs since he digs those up every fall in order to replace the daffs and tulips. He responded that he did, so now I have some of his dahlias in my garden.

          Then, there’s Mr. Crankypants’ house and yard. He’s not a very friendly person, and we often discuss just how we’d rearrange his yard and house, how we’d paint the metal light fixtures, etc. We laughed at one point because his gate had apparently ceased to function properly so he closed it with several turns of something like a bicycle chain and padlock. And, before he had the entrance graded, he put a foot or so of chicken wire at the bottom of the gate…to keep me from crawling into his yard for a better look, I guess.

          Just this morning, as we were entering the home stretch, we could hear geese calling. We went into a driveway to see if we could find them. They were no where to be found. We could have gone further to see into the big pond on that property, but that would be trespassing so we didn’t. We continued on and hoped we could see into the stream where the calls seemed to be originating. Nope, and then Kathy told me to look on the roof. There was one of the geese, walking all over the roof and talking to his/her partner who was apparently in the foliage someplace. It was a treat.

          Back home, there’s plenty to do out in the sunshine. Weeds to pluck, dirt to  move, flowerpots to prepare, my own clumps of daffodils and tulips to appreciate. Right now, my magnolia tree is covered with beautiful lavender flowers and the dense reddish-purple peonies below are growing well. Just this week I cleaned the pump in my little water feature so now it makes a lot more noise as it splashes away…very enjoyable and calming, making my deck into a very pleasant oasis. I think I’ll be spending some time out there today and in the next few days. I wish y’all could join me for iced tea or the beverage if your choice. Maybe by this time next month that will be possible…hope so!!!  

HAVE YOU MISSED IT???

         It’s quite possible you haven’t missed it. It’s quite possible you haven’t even given it a thought. I know I haven’t missed it, but perhaps that’s because I’ve managed to do some of it here on my blog. What I’m talking about is, of course, how whenever we used to get together with someone, we’d almost always end up discussing our various physical difficulties. I don’t know quite why that happens as we get older, but I was/am very aware of that tendency.

          Even when I made the decision ahead of time to not bring up any complaints about how I was doing; even when I decided ahead of time to steer the conversation away from someone else’s complaints, it seemed like sooner or later, our conversation became one about a wide variety of topics having to do with how we felt physically. It could be about indigestion, intestinal problems, inability to sleep or inability to stay awake. In fact, I’ve heard complaints from the top of someone’s head (hair loss) to the bottom of someone’s feet (ingrown toenails).

          I heard about one group that began their meetings with “whine” time. Everyone had 10 minutes to complain about whatever was at the top of their list. Once that time had elapsed, no one could resort to a topic that wasn’t relevant to whatever that group was meeting about. I would have liked to attend one of those meetings back when they were meeting and see how that “whine” time worked out. Did everyone talk at once? Did no one listen to anyone else?

          In any case, I woke up this morning with an aching back. Initially, I planned to whine about it on my blog. Then, I did my physical therapy, had breakfast and went on my walk. Now, my back, while still feeling a bit tender, is ever so much better. I decided I didn’t need to blog about something I’d try very hard not to share in a regular face-to-face conversation.

          The fact of the matter is I kinda like the conversations I’m having with people now. They don’t happen every single day, but when I do get on the phone with someone, or see a neighbor at a safe distance, or go to the grocery store wearing my mask and liberally using hand sanitizer, those conversations are often upbeat and positive.  I don’t think any of us want to discuss our back aches or intestinal problems when our lives could suddenly be upended by a virus that could result in death.

          So far, I’ve been very lucky and not just with my own health. All my family and friends are, to date, healthy. We’ve all obeyed the rules about social distancing, wearing masks, using hand sanitizer and staying home. I think it would be exceptionally nice if once we are allowed to be close again, we continued to have conversations about anything except our own or each other’s physicality. Perhaps this time of being singular will bring forth better and more fun relationships in the future. I definitely hope so. I definitely am going to work very hard toward that end.

LIL' KICK TO THE FANNY

          It’s getting late and I neglected to prepare something for tomorrow’s blog post. Rather than writing, I spent the day out in the garden cutting back the Zebra grass and pulling weeds. So, I looked back to some other writings and found what follows with some changes to make it more up-to-date. It seems to speak to the fact I wasn’t prepared for today.

Sometimes encouragement and support arrives from an unexpected source. Sometimes my own child, the child I carried and have known for almost 50 years surprises me with his insight and comments about something that is very important to me, i.e., my blog postings. It’s also a surprise to find that same something is very important to him. 

An email from my son provided surprise and encouragement with regard to the blog I was writing in 2014, i.e.,

“What the heck? No writings since August? You should keep doing them Ma. Even if no one comments. It's like a bit of history for me or you or us as a family. It's your insight to how you are, daily or yearly perspectives on things you do or the family did/does. Also bits of family loved ones who have been forgotten but are remembered for what they have passed on.

“Anyways, just my thoughts on your blog. Your retired, you have time (I think), you can be the writer you always wanted to be (and you are) by sharing your thoughts, ideas, wisdom, humor, experience & history of your life with us. 

“Sure it might be a small group of folks. But it's these folks who love you Ma.” 

He also said he was printing them out and planned to save them to have when he’s as old, or older, than his dad was then.

Decades ago (and I wish now that I’d begun with the very first Christmas we were married), I began to write a Christmas newsletter. Each one had a paragraph or two about each family member. They celebrated each member’s success or reported on difficulties for that year…soccer team championship or the breast cancer battle are examples. Each newsletter is a little annual family history; and even though my sons are grown with families of their own, I continue to write and send these newsletters, which began with four members and now includes ten.  I’ve always imagined my family having and reading them when I’m no longer around to continue creating these annual reports.

It never occurred to me until that morning’s email that I was doing the very same thing with my blog postings. From reading other blogs and thinking about what I wanted to do with my blog, I was more oriented toward a goal of obtaining what another blogger I had read just achieved…10,000 readers. If I didn’t have readers or my readership wasn’t climbing, then what I was writing must not be of great interest to anyone. I hadn’t realized my blogging provided information, history, thoughts and ideas my own son would want to print and keep and treasure. Surely, this is the very best and most important reason to blog…at least in my opinion.

Thank you son, for your email back then…it’s one I’ve saved and have read again and again for inspiration.

My son, AJ, left a comment on that post from 2014:  “Fab, just a fab job Ma. I’m glad I provided a lil’ kick to your fanny for some inspiration. Love Yer son.”  

Once again, AJ provided a “lil’” kick to my fanny so I’d have something to post today. I’ll need to forego jumping right into the garden today and prepare something to post for tomorrow. I think that “lil’” kick may provide me with more than one day’s writings. Thanks again, AJ, six years later.

I DO HAVE IT ALL???

          The only newspaper I receive is the one delivered on Sunday. This morning I found myself wondering why I was reading the ads, such as they are now that the internet and Amazon have pretty much taken over the marketplace. For that matter, I barely read the actual news unless it’s something that catches my eye and doesn’t make me cringe. I still read my favorite columns; but really, it’s actually a waste of time, time I could use elsewhere. 

I can’t remember how old I was when I first began reading the Sunday paper, but I know it was the comics. My parents would spend Sunday morning going through the paper, reading and talking about a variety of topics. My mom liked football just as much as my dad, so they even talked about the sports news. 

Mom also went through all the sale papers and noted what was on sale. She always had a very tight budget so if at all possible, she would buy whatever we needed when it was on sale. As I got older, I too, began to look through all those pages, mostly to see the current or upcoming fashions even though I knew I’d never be able to shop at The Bon Marche or Nordstrom. Still, all those pictures gave me an idea of what kind of look to aim for. A boy I dated briefly after high school told me he knew my clothes weren’t expensive, but I always looked very well put together, so I guess I achieved my goal.

Once I had my own money to spend, I continued to look in the paper for bargains and rarely paid full price for anything. After marriage and the acquisition of a house that actually echoed it was so empty, it was even more important to look for needed items on sale. And, when we invested in things like furniture or appliances, we always saved to buy quality. Over the course of my 53-year marriage, it was a rare event when I actually paid full price for something we needed.

My family increased with the birth of first one son and then a second ten years later. The desire and need to count our pennies became even greater because neither my husband nor I wanted to put our children in day care or have them become latch key kids. Working for himself, my husband was able to do mornings and made sure the kids were up, fed and out the door on time for school. He even spent one year as the only father participating in a preschool program…he loved it because he was the only rooster among all the chickens.

I, on the other hand, am not a morning person, so it was easier for me to get up, get ready and leave the mornings to him. Instead, working part-time, I was able to be home in the afternoons when they came home from school as well as be a room mother, assist in classes and go on field trips. There were even a couple of times other neighborhood parents relied on me to have their children after school. 

As you must be able to tell, a big fat paycheck or expensive trips were not at the top of our must have list. Rather, we wanted our children to be able to rely on us whenever they needed us. We did such a good job of this that it didn’t matter who responded when one of them yelled for dad or mom…whoever showed up was fine and able to deal with whatever was happening. 

Of course, this made reviewing all those sale papers extremely important. Yes, we wanted our sons to have the latest fashions from the most popular stores and learned early we had created at least one monster. He needed basketball shoes and my husband purchased them at K-Mart. He refused to wear them while his cousin was delighted to receive a brand-new pair of shoes…we used to laugh about this one. At the same time, this child had one saving grace…he walked to the beat of his own drummer, so what was highly fashionable wasn’t necessarily what he wanted. 

Even so, reading those sale pages for clothes, shoes, stuff for the house and food was essential in order to make our budget stretch as far as possible. At one time, when I did the weekly grocery shopping, I visited at least three neighborhood stores plus one of those warehouses depending on what was on sale and on the list. 

I am at a point in my life where I have everything I need. Of course, there are things I would like to have only because they would be new and different, and I would like them better. Case in point:  my everyday dishes are Fiesta ware in very muted shades of blue, green and pink. I’ve had them for decades. There are no missing or broken pieces, but I would love to have a new set in the neon colors now available. That’s all, just a change to bright, beautiful colors, but certainly not worth an investment of hundreds or thousands of dollars. The same can be said for practically everything in this house.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I have everything I need to last me for the remainder of my life. As I’ve blogged about in past posts, I plan to have a huge garage sale and then sell the house at some point in time. Depending on what’s left after the garage sale, then maybe I’ll have a need for some new stuff for my new place wherever it may be. The idea of a new little place with new stuff does make my heart beat just a tad faster.

Perhaps it’s time to discontinue the hard copy of the Sunday paper. Perhaps it’s time to turn my attention to the internet and look at properties for sale, little houses for sale for that property. I’m certainly not going to find those in the Sunday paper. Or, perhaps I should use the time wasted on the newspaper, forget about internet research and just celebrate the fact I've already got it "all."

GOOD ADVICE, GOOD BAKING, GOOD SOUP

          As you’ll see when reading this post, I took my own advice from yesterday’s post and CHOSE to have a great day.

When I planned ahead for the week, it was supposed to rain on Saturday. I took that into account and decided that was the day I’d make Legume Soup and Onion-Dill Bread. Since I couldn’t find any yeast, my walking partner gave me some in exchange for one of the loaves of bread…a fair trade I’d say.

          Years ago, well decades really since it was the early ‘70s, I made bread every other day…French bread actually. John and I had decided with some friends that we’d find some property and start a commune. John already wasn’t working and I left my job in preparation for moving to the country. I even planned on trading my lovely little orange bug for a horse.

          While John and the other two men searched for that perfect piece of property, we lived on our savings. I stayed home to be wife and mother and get into the zone of “living off the grid.” Part of that was to make as much of our food as possible, i.e., bread, cookies, candy, as well as cooking all our meals from scratch. Nothing out of a box would cross our threshold.

          That’s also about the time John dug up part of our back yard and I put in my first garden. I knew absolutely nothing about gardening outside. My experience had been with indoor plants. How hard could it be; however, you dig a hole, plant a seed and harvest what comes up. My garden actually did quite well, although there were some things that did not. My radishes were always too hot, but the lettuces, green onions and carrots were good. I tried broccoli and cauliflower, cucumbers and a few other things, but those were complete failures. One thing I could grow really well was green beans. John built me four teepees and at the end of summer, they were always covered with vines loaded with beans.

          My bean harvest was so big, I had to invest in a pressure canner so I could can them. John didn’t like fresh or frozen beans. For years after the idea of a commune died, I canned green beans and there was always more than enough to get us through the winter. I also picked raspberries with my mom and made jam. When I think about all the strawberries I picked, my back throbs in memory. I’m sure there’s no way I could stoop and sit and pick strawberries these days. I made jam from those as well. Let’s not forget blackberries…they grow all over and are free for the picking. I also canned anything else that came my way and was free. While I don’t can much of anything anymore, I still make Aunt Lola’s dill pickles every August.

          I almost forgot to boast about the apple tree. It’s still in the yard and for years and years, it provided the most wonderful apples. I have no idea what kind of apple tree it is, but the apples were delicious green with a little salt, even better when they were ripe and sweet. Every summer I would make 6-8 pies for the freezer…nothing like a yummy warm apple pie in January. The boys loved the pies, but hated having to peel the apples. AJ did it until his brother Thor was old enough to take over. Thor got to quit about the time the tree stopped producing or had apple maggots in the few apples it did host. It’s been years since that tree has had a single apple. Just once more before either it is or I am too old, I’d like to see it produce a few apples.

          We also harvested huckleberries in the mountains beginning when AJ was about six or seven years old. We went to the same place for years, and I’d continue going now except the last however many times, there were no berries. I looked up huckleberry hikes and my granddaughter went with me for a couple years. We did manage to pick enough each time for a couple of pies, but work and school kinda ended those trips. Now, if I become desperate for huckleberries, I’ll have to order frozen ones and pay a lot for them. In fact, the first essay I ever had published was about huckleberries. Maybe I’ll see if I can find it and reproduce it here one of these times when I can’t think of anything to write about.

          To return to how I began this post, I got up Saturday morning and started the 15-bean soup (AJ wanted to know if it was really 15 beans and I told him yes.). It’s cooking away as I type this. Then, I began the onion-dill bread. While it was rising, I made a mince-meat pie. There was more than enough pie crust to utilize the one green apple I had, so I made a little apple fold-over pie with it. Doesn’t everything look absolutely delicious in the photos...and it was!!!

          Tomorrow I’ll be cooking a small ham and maybe have some of the onion-dill bread with it. I’ll save the bone for later and use it when I once again have 15 beans to make more soup. As you can see, I’m not going the least bit hungry, plus I’m feeling much better because I CHOSE to do all this cooking and took a very pleasant trip down memory lane in the process.

          Wishing you all a very HAPPY EASTER!!!

DEPRESSION SUCKS

         Originally, when thinking about today’s post, I thought it would be a happy and uplifting one, but the way I’m feeling as I type this is very depressed. I knew I had written something about depression years ago, so I went looking for it. With some minor changes, I’m publishing it today in the hope this reminder will make me CHOOSE to not be depressed.

More than a century ago when my great grandmother was alive and raising kids, I’m sure she suffered from depression based on stories handed down. Who wouldn’t have suffered back then in the coves of Tennessee? It was hard-scrabble farming, no electricity, running water, grocery stores, or any of the “conveniences” we now take for granted. At the same time, my great-grandmother most likely wasn’t aware of the “haves” since pretty much everyone she knew were have-nots as well. No major publications or television to show her the “perfect” world she didn’t have.

My grandmother didn’t appear to suffer from depression even though she didn’t have it any better than her mother. Married to a man 40+ years older than her, she raised his 11 kids from two previous deceased wives plus the five he gave her and took care of him when he became bedridden. This, all while working a hard-scrabble farm with no amenities. I was even born in her cabin in front of the fireplace which was the warmest place available, and my uncle served as my incubator until my mother was ready to have me with her.

Grandma, too, had a hard life and was part of my life from the very beginning. I don’t remember her ever dwelling on the hardships she endured or thinking or believing she had a hard life. In fact, she was upbeat, amusing and looked for and found silver linings in whatever clouds passed her way. She even had fond memories and often told stories about her good old days. I need to be more like my Grandma.

My mother was the antithesis of my grandma once we moved to the city. Before that, as a stay-at-home mom, she baked and sang and kept the house immaculate. I remember these as very happy times. Once we left Idaho for the city, things changed. Dad was injured, then couldn’t find a job and so she had to go to work to keep the family going. That, and easy access to print, radio and television advertising (or so I think) did affect her view toward life, and it wasn’t ever positive again as long as she lived.

I had a wonderful childhood and life was very good until I grew up and became an adult. Actually, life was good until my daddy died and I was 32 then. Marital problems also added to the depression. I was in my 40s when my doctor told me I suffered from depression and prescribed antidepressants. I would take them for a time, then stop, become depressed and the cycle would repeat. Finally, my doctor told me I was to be commended for not becoming an alcoholic or drug user, but I simply had to accept the fact my chemical composition was such that without my medication I would be depressed. So, basically, knock it off and take your pill every day. I did so until a few years ago when I gave them up for good. For the most part, I haven’t been inordinately depressed for any long periods of time, so the decision was a good one.

Still, when life seems to be more than I can handle, depression rises from the depths of my being. So, I find myself wanting to withdraw from friends and family, stop doing much of anything and have a private pity party for however long it takes to stifle the depression. Of course, I know getting out and about, accomplishing a chore; basically doing anything that brings positivity to my life will help alleviate the depression.

I also know there are other things that are contributing to the way I’m feeling as I type this. Coronavirus, shelter in place, fear of going out and about all contribute to the way I’m feeling. I’m 74 and have three auto-immune diseases, so that puts me in the risk category. Most of the time I try not to think about it and I don’t watch the news aside from 20 minutes of Good Morning America. Maybe I should give up that 20 minutes. Maybe I just needed to succumb to depression for a day or so.

So, why do I CHOOSE to be depressed. I mean, really, logically, what do I have to be depressed about?  I’m healthy, am pretty much financially secure, have family and friends who care about me, have things to do that I enjoy and basically don’t have much to complain about at all. Yes, there are things about my life I would like to change or have changed, but they are also things over which I have no control. I should just let them go, and for the most part do so, but sometimes, they rise up and smack me in the face.

There’s also the fact Easter is tomorrow and as I posted in my previous blog, like many others, I’m going to spend it alone. I know that has added to my depressed feeling. Yes, I’ll have ham and good buns. I’ll have my gin. I’ll stuff my face and enjoy doing it, but the enjoyment would be increased by having someone/anyone share it with me.

In any case, it didn’t help that I CHOSE to take a beautiful sunny day off and achieve absolutely nothing. When I got up the next morning, even though I’d slept well, I felt crummy and really just wanted to go back to bed. I didn’t. I got myself together and went for my hour walk. It wasn’t fun. For some reason, the calves of my legs always hurt a lot, and lately they’ve gotten worse. It doesn’t matter if I stretch, eat a banana, take my vitamins first, my calves hurt for part or much of the walk. It makes me want to stop walking…but I won’t.

Now that I’ve typed this, I’m going to CHOOSE to go outside and continue working in my garden. It always makes me feel good to see what I’ve accomplished at the end of the day. It’s supposed to be beautiful and warm for the next week or more, and I need to keep the fact that my life is a 1,000 (or more) times better than that of my great-grandmother at the forefront of my thoughts. I know I can CHOOSE not to be depressed by getting busy, calling friends, working out, accomplishing a major project, doing things that make me feel good. Most of the time, this is the choice I make. So, why are other days so difficult, and why on those days, do I CHOOSE to be depressed? I don’t really have an answer to this question, I just know now and then, no matter what, life and depression sucks. 

EASTER

This coming Sunday is Easter and I will be spending it alone as will so many others. Unlike Thanksgiving when I “…vanted to be alone,” I’d rather have family with whom I could celebrate the holiday. Instead, I’ll be here with memories of past Easters. 

When I was a kid, I always got a new dress, shoes, gloves and sometimes even a hat. We went to church to celebrate Jesus’ rising from the dead to save us all. We sang hymns and I loved that. There’s just something so joyous about singing hymns with the rest of the congregation. 

          After church, there were Easter baskets filled with candy, colored hard-boiled eggs hidden throughout the yard if the sun shined or in the house if it was raining. Easter dinner was always a big deal. Usually other family members either joined my family or we went to their homes. Baked ham covered in pineapple slices and maraschino cherries…I never was able to make one of those that looked as good as the ones my grandmother and aunts made. Mashed potatoes and gravy, some kind of vegetable and the famous Jell-O salad of some sort. Between the candy, eggs and dinner I was always stuffed at the end of the day.

          Over the years, I continued to celebrate Easter with egg hunts, candy and dinner or brunch with family and friends. Church going wasn’t ever part of the plan. I must admit that I’m sorry now I didn’t include church and Sunday school attendance in the lives of my children. They grew up without any religious history. When I was growing up, you received religious information not only at church, but in regular school as well. My children didn’t receive any religious education in school, not even learning to sing Christmas songs. I do know that if my children now felt the need for religion in their lives, they could seek it out. Still, if I had it to do over, I’d at least make sure they went to church until they were old enough to decide whether to attend or not.

          For AJ’s first Easter, my sister Mary gave him two baby chicks…one dyed pink and the other blue. She brought them in a huge Easter basket which he still uses at Easter. AJ was fascinated by these little colored fluff balls that cheeped and hopped about. Of course, if he got his hands on one, it was headed directly for his mouth. I ended up giving them to the family next door. The mother raised them and then served them for Sunday dinner…she had been a farm girl. I never did get even with my sister for that gift.

          Then there was the year I did such a good job of hiding the colored eggs in the house, the boys were unable to fine one of them. They searched all over and I searched as well, but we didn’t find that egg until the following year. I’d hidden it in one of the hanging plants and the foliage hit it so well we couldn’t see it. John very carefully took control of that egg, wrapped it up in a plastic bag and put it in the garbage. “Can you imagine how a year-old hard-boiled egg would smell if it was cracked?” was his comment.

          I always made sure everyone of us had an Easter basket full of our favorite candies, Easter egg hunts and a yummy ham dinner. Sometimes, especially after my parents both died, we’d have a brunch with several other families. Each family would bring a special dish and we’d share. There was certainly some very tasty food at those brunches as well as a great feeling of fellowship…I’ll miss that this year.

           My mother almost always bought those hams that are round and oblong. I much prefer the hams with the bone. The ham itself just tastes so much better and then you get to use the bone for some kind of soup. The day after Easter there’s nothing like a really good roll with a piece of ham tucked inside…okay, several rolls with ham.

          When I do my grocery shopping today, I’m going to see if I can find the smallest bone-in ham they have in the case. It will probably way bigger than I need, but I can freeze some of it as well as the bone to have later on. I probably won’t make gravy or potatoes. Instead, I’ll make myself a big salad and make sure I have my favorite rolls on hand so I can put the ham inside that very day rather than waiting until Monday.

          It will be my first Easter without John; and, really, without family since we cannot all get together. I’m sure it will be lonely, but there’s the phone and face time, not that those conveniences will do John any good. I’ve also put Easter cards in the mail to my grandkids and their parents. I like to think of it as sending a virtual hug and being able to say, “Happy Easter, Nana/Mom loves you.”