For everyone in the local Polish community, Holy Saturday has meant one thing: a visible continuation of traditions from the Old Country -- the blessing of the Easter baskets. When we began the tradition, the parish pastor had no idea what it was. He quickly learned and just as quickly fell in love with the tradition.
This year, then, was the first Holy Saturday in a decade that we didn't have a basket blessing here in Greenville. In some ways, that made Holy Saturday wholly different. But some things were the same.
That tree in the front yard that I wanted to cut down yesterday? It's now gone, along with my back.
More similarities: there was baking, baking, baking. For whom? For our family. For friends. For our neighbors. For anyone who wanted it, I guess. The difference? The Girl was involved -- not just involved, but insisting on seeing the whole process through to the end alone. Well, almost alone -- moving it to the cake stand was a bit too scary for her.
What else was the same? The kitchen was a disaster area for most of the day.
An artist at work always leaves behind a mess. And one of our culinary artists is better at cleaning up the mess she leaves behind than the other, and I'm much more likely to jump in and help clean with one of the artists than I am with the other. Lessons to learn.
Previous Years
Basket Blessing 2019
Basket Blessing 2018
Baskets 2015
Blessing the Baskets
