It is Monday and I am sipping my coffee meditating on this past weekend and the busy week ahead. Although my children are older, we still hold tight to traditions.
I took Friday off in order to bake cinnamon rolls. My grandmother Claire and I spent every Good Friday I can remember elbow deep in flour, cinnamon, and sugar making dozens of cinnamon rolls that we shared with family and friends Easter weekend. I am horrible at remembering the entire reason other than it having to do with yeast on Good Friday. I know that many people make hot cross buns and the tradition has European origins. I found a few articles and thought I would share one here. When I posted my kitchen towel covered dough mound late Thursday night on Facebook, I asked if anyone knew what I would be making Friday morning and one of the guesses was hot cross buns. There is a similarity and an irony. The recipes and ingredients are quite alike. The process is the variance. Hot cross buns sure are less labor. Kneading in the dried fruits and spices instead of rolling the dough flat and adding fruits and spices then rolling it up and slicing before putting in the pan to rise again sure sounds a lot easier. I could have been done in two hours instead of four. Regardless, Cinnamon rolls are my family tradition and tears are my secret ingredient now as I rolled the dough and remember the times with my grandmother. This year I baked 111 rolls. That number was not planned but it is symbolic. Three ones. Three days. Good Friday through Easter Sunday: Resurrection Day. The Holy Trinity. Inspiring.
All through the day, I got to see loved ones who stopped in for their annual goodies.
My father was the first to get his cinnamon rolls.
Also on Good Friday, we colored eggs. Well, my daughter and her friends did most of them. I found a place to put my feet up and watch them interact and get creative.
When are we too old for Easter baskets? I say Never! They may not be filled to the brim with candy these days, but there is something about being a kid at heart and staying young.
And mine…well it is for the heart of a planner.
See the stamps? And washi? And ink pads? Yes!!!! I have more ways to plan! What I didn’t have was time to play. It was a busy day with church and family. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Managing Monday-What is the plan?
Well, I had one take away from our Pastor yesterday. And I am taking this to task.
At the beginning and end of each day in my quiet time when I make lists and plan, I will ask myself this question:
Will this make me more alive?
If I am planning a day or a life that isn’t achieving that, then why on earth am I doing it? It will not matter how pretty the paper is or how organized I appear to be.
This past weekend I didn’t make much time to plan and I didn’t make my pages pretty but I did spend it living. I celebrated traditions and I honored those I love by continuing them and pouring love into my world. That is what I call being more alive.
What are your traditions? What makes you more alive?