EASTER SUNDAY

WE UNDERSTAND that we missed a splendid Easter brunch at the Manor, but previous arrangements had been made to be with Mr. Bob's family on Easter Sunday. They live far enough away that it's a rare thing to get together and because his sister, Margaret, and her daughter were coming down from Burlingame, there was no question where our loyalties lay.


Tim drove and took us on a beautiful route where the mustard was at its peak of bloom. Before the afternoon was over, the rain came down, but the only inconvenience was that the planned patio seating had to be moved inside for dinner. Not a problem.

Of six children, Mr. Bob and his sister are the only ones still living. Curious, that out of all the siblings, they were the only two redheads. Margaret will be 88 this summer and neither looks nor acts her age. I may be prejudiced, but I don't think her brother looks his 84 years, either, in spite of his red having turned to silver.

Tony and Sam were there. You may recall the time that I sat and talked to Tony for a half hour, showing him pictures on my iPhone to which there was virtually no response. When I went to get up, I said to those around me, "Don't watch me rise," Tony said there was little chance of it, since he was blind. I'd just thought Sam was a well-behaved dog, but he's a trained Guide dog. Tony spoke of being on a blind rowing team which recently rowed to Catalina Island, no mean trick.

Tim's cousins (either once removed or second or whatever) whom he knows better on Facebook than in person were there. They're the offspring of Charlene and Harvey, both of whom have had nearly insurmountable health problems of late. Pam (Margaret's daughter), Charlene and Tim are first cousins. Of that I'm sure.


There were young and old in attendance.

Lots
of new faces, good food,
a white lily and purple hyacinths. Who knows when we'll next be together?

Soon it was time to take Margaret and Pam to the Ontario Airport to catch the plane that would take them home. After dropping them off, we headed back along the mustard lined highway and detoured slightly to go to Din Tai Fung in the hope that they'd be open on Easter. The crowd outside told us we were in luck.

It was easily a forty-five minute wait and when we squeezed into the restaurant's small entry area, a young fellow quickly stood to give me his seat and immediately the man next to me inquired if it was our first time there. I told him it was probably our twelfth visit. An easy conversation ensued....among other subjects he told me he was going to pharmaceutical school at USC and that he was driving his mother home to San Francisco that very night. "Goodbye", I said, when our number was called. 

When their turn came, the man and his mother were shown to seats adjacent to ours and they agreed to having their pictures taken to document the experience. They even offered us a sample of their vegetarian dumplings. I couldn't resist the reminder to drive carefully as we departed to continue on our way to the Manor. It's a very nice place to come home to, but how I love our ventures into the outside world. No chocolate bunnies this year, but much else to deposit in our memory banks. 'Twas fun.