My weekend started with trash....
...and ended with it, too.
The last photo gets a little bit of commentary. I went to the Catholic Church on Saturday to see what, if anything, was going on. The priests were out front sweeping and hosing down the parking area. Inside the church, kids were mopping the floors. I tried to sneakily take a photo of the cleaning stuff on the pew, but a woman came over to me and gave me the evil stare. So I left. Yesterday, Easter Sunday, my landlady popped over with two hard-boiled eggs dyed blood red that her Catholic friend had given her. Blood red easter eggs...sure beats pastels....I guess.
The last photo gets a little bit of commentary. I went to the Catholic Church on Saturday to see what, if anything, was going on. The priests were out front sweeping and hosing down the parking area. Inside the church, kids were mopping the floors. I tried to sneakily take a photo of the cleaning stuff on the pew, but a woman came over to me and gave me the evil stare. So I left. Yesterday, Easter Sunday, my landlady popped over with two hard-boiled eggs dyed blood red that her Catholic friend had given her. Blood red easter eggs...sure beats pastels....I guess.
1 comment:
At first the thought of eating anything blood red made me a little quesey. Then I remembered that I loathe how far the celebration of Easter has come from the rememberance of its true events. I began to think cross-culturally and decided that this blood red egg was much closer to representation of the true meaning of easter, compared to the pastels that are much more consumer friendly...my thoughts on blood red eggs. :)
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