by Kat de Naoum
I love Easter. Not for the meaningful historic symbolism or anything deep like that but because Easter is like a mini Christmas towards the middle of the year. With Christmas though you’re not guaranteed to have any days off; if it happens to fall on the weekend, you’ll most probably have to be back in the office by Monday or Tuesday but with Easter you always get the Friday and Monday off, guaranteed! Thank you, Jesus!
Trumping any spiritual reasons one may hold dear is the other critical Easter tradition… Chocolate. Chocolate at Easter is at its very finest. So much of it everywhere you look and in vast arrays of colours, tastes, flavours, textures, forms, shapes and sizes… it’s a PMS dream at the least.
And of course (being Greek especially) there is the compulsory blockbuster barbeque. Amazingly chargrilled meat varying from whole, still-in-one-piece lambs (complete with head and feet) to chicken, sausages and stuffed pig-intestines… each complete with all of the tasty, crispy fat, of course.
Wash it all down with a few beers or six and then dessert (not chocolate; that doesn’t count as dessert. Chocolate is in a category all on its own and is permissible at any time of the day however often one choses).
Then, on Easter Monday you get to relax (some more)… perhaps have some more chocolate and any left over barbeque from the day before.
At some point, whilst sitting slumped on the couch with unbuttoned trousers, chocolate in one hand, mobile phone in the other, about to tweet yet again about the amount of food you’ve consumed, you realise the main big and most important difference between Christmas and Easter…
What have I done? Summer is right round the corner, hell, it’s practically already here and I’ve been eating like there’s no tomorrow!
Enter panic mode.
How are we supposed to burn off all these completely unnecessary calories in time for bikini season which will be here any day now (although Greece could have fooled us this year; it seems to be delaying things on purpose and we feel like anxious puppies waiting patiently for our treat)?
With Christmas, you knew that you could get away with wearing your boyfriend’s baggy jumpers if need be and blame the look on “fashion” but how can you get away with that in the summer? I can’t wear jumpers as it’s too warm and can’t wear skimpy clothes because people will start ‘ooh-ing’ and ‘aah-ing’ and asking how far along I am and whether I want a boy or girl. I think an urgent “hide-the-Easter-flab” post is needed, Xeni, before we all embark on living on only water and lemon for the next couple of months (and inevitably failing miserably).
Apart from the “Eek!-I’m-not-ready-for-summer” panic, Easter pretty much rocks.
But the main reason I love Easter is that it brings with it the promise of summer and along with that, the promise of brighter days and uplifted spirits and positive attitudes and contented smiles and longer days and long, slow walks and familiar faces and skin-on-skinhugs and afternoon naps with the windows open and tropical fruit sorbets and flowers on the side of the road and green sprouts sneaking through the pavement and herbal scents and bright blue skies and that warm fuzzy feeling that tells you that this will be your summer.
**Xeni Kouveli makes the Convo collages with pics found on Google images – we do not own them (except for the ones we do own).