“In this world nothing can be said to be more certain, except death and taxes.”

It’s quite a familiar quote, but I had to look up the author and found that it was Benjamin Franklin .   This is an unchanging truth from over two centuries ago.    Buried somewhere deep in the government archives, written in inscrutable legalese are all 70,000 pages of the tax code that people and businesses have to follow.   John Oliver noted that it’s two things that people hate:  paying money and doing math.   After finishing my taxes I would agree.   Oh well, taxes are the inevitable that we can predict to fall on April 15th, unlike the other.

One of the more mundane tasks in life is compiling a list of items to remember to buy at the store.  Even Michelangelo had to do this, and as his designated shopper did not know how to read, he also had to illustrate this.

On successive days he needed bread, wine, herrings, anchovies, fennel soup and tortellini.   Each day was not a very long list, but I guess the shopper could not be trusted to remember the few items that were requested.

This is my shopping list, which I keep on the kitchen counter next to Gumby and Pokey (stars of stop-motion animation from the 50’s and 60’s).   Much like Michelangelo’s assistant, I have a memory like a sieve, so if I don’t write it down the moment I think of it, it’s gone and I forget to buy it.  And of course we both like anchovies.

When I was shopping recently I found a discarded or forgotten list in my shopping cart (trolley).   The list was written on a pink post-it note.   The list was:  cat food, dog food, bird seed and tampons, obviously the list of a younger Earth Mother.   These lists offer a glimpse of the little things that fill our lives.

And I definitely need to add wine to my list.

Growing up I loved each and every holiday.   It’s an excuse to break out mass quantities of special food and to see all the relatives (not necessarily a good thing) and to be on best behavior.   Easter, the celebration of Spring and Faith is an important cog in the wheel of time, after the dull days of winter.   I had dinner with some friends yesterday and we reminisced about Easters past.

For women and girls it meant a new hat, white gloves and a new best dress to wear to church.   My grandmother was a great lover of hats, her favorite shops were hat stores.   So I always got a hat that made me look like and feel like a complete idiot.  My brothers were merciless in mocking me.  For some reason I never thought to return the compliment, so a certain amount of fighting would ensue.

Then after what seemed like hours of waiting and trying to be good, the feast would commence.   Country ham (incredibly salty), biscuits, rolls, salads, deviled eggs, potato salad, green beans with bacon, crudities, lamb-shaped coconut cake and lots of pies.   My grandfather liked American food, so nothing ethnic was served at the feast.

I don’t make everything anymore, but I do try to do some of it, because it’s important to remember.   And it’s just me and Pen, although she could devour an entire feast by herself.  We always listen to Beethoven’s “Mount of Olives” too, it’s part of the day.

Easter also meant candy and there was that moment of decision.   Whether to eat everything at once or to save something, and what order to eat things in.   The essential existential question was: is it better to eat the weird candy first (like those flavorless fondant eggs) or to go directly to the delicious stuff (like red jelly beans) and of course the proper way to consume the chocolate rabbit (bit by bit starting with the ears, or in giant gulps starting with the feet or tail.

Then it was back to reality, no feasting or special foods that only appeared at holidays.  At least until the next festive occasion!