Weekend Journal

The list making started Friday morning. Steve was home and could watch the kids, while I did the food and present shopping. It was Easter.

First up was clothing. Children’s Place was having a big sale. Two white shirts, because I love the boys in white. Then a plaid jacket and fishing hat for Ian. A blue tie and a linen cap for Jonah. They both have my dad’s Irish coloring and strawberry blond hair. With their preppy looks, they could have stepped out of my dad’s class pictures from the 50s.

Then there was food. The farm for the asparagus, lettuce, fresh bread, olives, potatoes, and honey. The butcher for the ham. The supermarket for brown sugar, chips, Thomas cake, salsa, cheeses, crackers, soda, seltzer. Cold Stone Creamery for ice cream. Chocolate store for chocolate bunnies. Shoe store for cheap stockings. Bottle King for wine.

Most the goodies for the basket and toys for Ian’s birthday had already been checked off the list last weekend.

We cleaned the bathrooms, mopped the kitchen floor, mowed the lawn, mopped the porch, brought down the baskets from the attic, dyed eggs, and hid the plastic eggs stuffed with chocolates and jelly beans.

I never made a ham glaze before, so we searched the web for recipes and found one that we thought everyone would like — orange marmalade, brown sugar, and honey.

When I was setting the table, I pulled out old wedding gifts — serving pieces still in their original boxes. Some still had the cards inside. I unwrapped the set of china that my Aunt Theresa had given us. She was distressed that we hadn’t registered for china and felt that we really needed one. At the time, I scoffed. We were causal people perferring the earthy, colorful, artsy, ethnic, dishwasher safe. But yesterday, for some reason, I decided to use the good stuff. All of which had to be hand washed.

Sunday was sort of easy by comparison. All I had to do was force my three year old into his new shirt and jacket by alternately sitting on him and bribing him with chocolates. Something about new clothes drives him nutty. Should have washed the shirt first. And I had to cook for 11 people.

It all went off very smoothly. The kids were cute as a button. The dinner was very Martha.

But was it worth it? Why do this stuff? Why not wear the same old clothes and order in Chinese food? We were the only family on the block to get dressed up and go to church. Maria from down the block told me that they weren’t going anywhere or doing anything, because she was too tired.

I am sitting here Monday morning with things that still need to be tucked away and a table cloth that needs hand washing and wondering if I am an idiot who has bought into the whole Martha life style when really I should have been chilling out and sending out. Days of prep work went into making a few hours on Sunday special. Formal meals and fancy clothes mean oppressed women in the kitchen. Is all this china and fancy Easter bonnets just about the display of material possessions? It’s out of step with the times where people work to earn money and out source everything.

I supposed it is the contrarian in me that appreciates work that brings in no money, work that is entirely consumed and devoured in a few short hours, work that leads to no lasting structure or monument, work that is only viewed by a few drunken relatives and a mute child. The holiday feast as performance art — one time only and only for a select audience.

I hope you all had an excellent holiday. Tell me what you did.