egg hunt

We have a HUGE easter egg hunt coming up this morning. Hundreds and hundreds of eggs. Perhaps hundreds of children too.

It's a rather fabulous neighbor tradition.

My sweetest memory of the hunt was watching Isaac head out onto the field to escort Elijah seven years ago—with teensy new Charlotte in a baby carrier on his chest. He was glowing with greed for his tiny little Charlotte—she's all mine. The three of them were a greeting card that day.

I'm in a bit of a fix. My neck has been kinked up all week, kinking up my schedule—much pain, no sleep. I'm beginning to feel better and have surrounded myself with printouts, in the throes of composing a new collection. I'm not thrilled about stopping.

Yet, the weekend is scheduled to the max. There's the egg hunt, then we have friends coming over to barbeque later on. Add to that Easter celebrations all day tomorrow.

Aah! I don't have time for so much fun. Stop the fun.