I got up late this morning and tried to recall what Easter usually entailed when I was younger. Baring the usual trip to St Buryan and the trail (or is that trial) up to chapel with Auntie Edna with roast to follow, I can't really remember much.
When I lived in Mousehole I remember loads of us ('the youth of the day') would walk from Mousehole to Lamorna along the cliff path and many would make their way back worse for wear after plenty to drink at the Wink pub. I can remember one year, Easter must have been early and me and my girlie pal had just done half the walk; later on one of the Newlyn lads stumbled into the village with a cut (on his head I think), said he'd fallen over 'it was sunny when I fell (asleep) and snowing when I woke up...' I think Phil, my step-dad ran him to Penzance to get his cuts seen to!
Much the same today weatherwise, I got up too late to really enjoy the sunshine, but as soon as I got to town it rained.. me and Kate in summer wear, dodging the raindrops so it didn't wet my shoes... or make Kate's hair go curly! That's the trouble with Easter, you can't really hang your hat on the weather... mind you, that's England any time of year I guess!
So I've stumbled on a new tradition I think.. a day of baking all things nice.. flapjacks, light fruit cake and now a boiled fruit cake, just like Gran's used to bake! Kate tried a microwave cake, it looks a bit of a dubious mess all turned out on a plate, but with chocolate in it and on it, I guess it'll pass the taste test!