my assignments...

for Easter lunch: squash casserole, deviled eggs and (a great family tradition:) carrot cake. The carrot cake recipe is from the Camellia City Cookbook. The original cookbook, with red plastic binding. Typed on manual typewriters when I was in high school, by the stars of the class, complete with typos and various mis-keyed letters, floating bits of alphabet. I've made it numerous times over the years as it was originally the Official Family Birthday Cake. Back when daughters were small enough to generally eat anything that was put in front of them. As well as having never been exposed to white sugar-fied commercial bakery cake with gobs of butter cream icing. Now I only make it once a year, as a command performance, when it is a requested item for the Easter lunch.

I've already made the squash casserole - did that as soon as I brought groceries home, and put it in the fridge. And waiting until the last possible minute to boil a dozen eggs. I thought I had some, but that carton was nearly empty. And experience has taught me that they are so much easier to peel when they have 'matured', I know not to even try as soon as they come in the house. So I will boil my eggs for devil-ing when I get home from work today, while I am doing the onerous grating for the cake.

I nearly forgot that I had agreed to run to Sam's Club and get a second ham. The hostess decided that one eight pound ham is not enough pig for the crowd that is expected. And it is much easier for me to get another than for her to go across town. So I jumped up yesterday afternoon, and dashed out in the pouring rain to search for a second porker. I am not eating that, so I do hope that I will not forget to load it up after we go to church in the morning. It would be a horrifying tale to have to say that TP ate a  whole ham by himself, though I am pretty sure it is possible.

I will finish up my assignments this afternoon, and be ready to head north after we go to earliest church Sunday morning at 8. I haven't been to a sunrise service on Easter Sunday morning since I was about ten years old, remembering how cold I was in my finery: lacy ankle socks, shiny black strap-on Mary Janes, full-skirted gingham dress with stiff organza pinafore (and shabby sweater) waiting in the dark at the football stadium for the event to start, so it would be over and I could go home and get warm again. So ... I think getting organized enough to get there at 8 is sufficient for me.