One of the blogs I follow is written by an Episcopal priest somewhere on the West Coast, and he mentioned that his parish was having their “traditional” Sunrise Service on Easter morning. Hadn’t thought of that in eons. We had Sunrise Services when I was a kid; however it’s one thing when the rectory is across the parking lot, and another when the last three people we’ve had lived about twenty-five miles from the church.
When my sister and I were growing up, my grandmother always made us eat dinner either in our slips, or with a tea towel around our necks. (Something else Princess Anne never had to do, I’ll bet. See my old Blogger site for that story.) http://endoftheswap.blogspot.com/2012/01/let-me-introduce-myself.html Mind you, I went to a boarding school, and was perfectly capable of eating a meal without spilling it, but apparently this talent disappeared the minute I crossed the family threshold.
The year I was a senior in highschool, the fellow I was dating came to Easter service with us and then to my grandparents’ house for breakfast. I was TERRIFIED that she was going to deck me out with a dish towel, but after looking me up and down, she decided not to, and my sister also got a break.
But the next time I ate there, and Jerry wasn’t with me, it was back to eating in my underwear.
thisendoftheswamp 
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