It is a good friday. Back home.
Eating a lunch of herbed chicken, salad of lettuce, feta, peas, mint and chive, with soft, garlicky flat breads
and later, my mother's amazing sachertorte with strawberries and raspberries, all in the garden in glorious sunshine. Chilled Prosecco. Good times with my family.
The tulips and alliums are flowering their hearts out and the hammock is going up for the first time this year. I see a little snooze in my near future.
But it is also, of course, Good Friday. For me, Easter symbolizes the most powerful, sacred miracle of all. Whatever Easter means to you, I wish you a wonderful holiday weekend.