By Celia Murphy
Lambs running around the fields, their mothers very protective of them. Primroses smiling back at me from the ditches as I take my daily walk up Ballasallagh. I suddenly realise it’s spring and Easter is on its way.
Easter memories come alive in me. I just love this time of year. It feels like a new beginning with brighter evenings coming. I have wonderful memories of Easter in our house. It’s such a beautiful time of year.
I remember my sisters and brothers out collecting eggs from local farmers for our mother. We would line boxes with moss so we wouldn’t break them on our way home.
Easter in our house was like a big spring clean. Windows would be cleaned, dad would have the boys out sweeping the yard. The curtains in the whole house would be washed. The front doorstep freshened up with red Cardinal polish. New oil cloth was bought for the kitchen table.
One of my fondest memories is coming home from early mass on Easter Sunday and Dad boiling eggs for us, making toast on a long fork at the range in the kitchen and putting the blessed salt on our eggs.
When we were young I remember getting a chocolate egg with smarties in it. Usually it was only a hollow chocolate egg . We didn’t usually get fancy eggs, but we were easily pleased with the simple things in life. I remember we would relish every morsel. Eating it slowly to make it last.
Continue reading in this week’s Ireland’s Own