Tag Archives: Easter

Cancelled witch

So this year the Easter witch gathering has been cancelled.

Paint it black

It wasn’t an entirely traditional Easter Saturday, but I suppose it was all right.

The Resident IT Consultant drove across half of Central Scotland searching for black spray paint, and as soon as he brought some home I went outside and sprayed it all over the dining table. After enough cans had been used up, the table looks sort of finished. And black.

The [formerly green] grass is also slightly black.

And my arms hurt. Who knew paint-spraying was so tiring?

I also sprayed some tomato all over myself, causing a red-orange streak down my front. As we didn’t have a bonfire to grill sausages on, we made do with the grill pan in the kitchen. And I didn’t fly over the cooker on my broom, partly because of lack of space and partly because a witch needs a proper bonfire to be sent on her way. Daughter bought one of those foil barbecue things, but I absolutely refuse to broom over that as well.

In-between the countless black layers I read Tanya Landman’s new book. It’s so good I didn’t always want to put it down to attend to my painting.

Daughter decided to stretch Lent as far as she could, so made us Lent buns to have with our afternoon cup of tea. I reckon as long as it was before Easter Sunday it’s probably almost legal.

We watched Doctor Who, which we liked, and then we played The Great Penguin Bookchase, which we also liked, and which I lost.


Here are two lovely little picture books with Easter vibes. The covers are certainly lovely and spring-like. And there are bunnies.

And, erm, a fox.

Ellie Sandall, Everybunny Dance!

Ellie Sandall sends her little bunnies out into a clearing in the woods in Everybunny Dance! and they decide to make the most of being alone and unwatched. They will dance, and sing. So they dance, and sing. And then they discover the fox watching them, and…

Oh help.

But are all foxes bad? What if this one is lonely and needing friends?

Smriti Prasadam-Halls and Alison Friend, My Hand to Hold

In Smriti Prasadam-Halls’ story My Hand to Hold, with illustrations by Alison Friend, we meet a young bunny and his or her adult; probably a parent. The mother – or is it the father? – keeps saying how they will always love the little bunny, through mud and shouting and all kinds of weather. In short, they will always love them and offer a Hand To Hold.

Both books show us that we all need someone. Mostly we need a bunny, or several. And sunny meadows with flowers are never wrong.


I mourn my Easters. Some years ago I came to the reluctant conclusion that it made no sense for me to expect the other three family members to celebrate something that didn’t come natural to them. It was easier for me to go Easter-less.

(By comparison, I have always ‘insisted’ that we celebrate Christmas my way. But that’s OK, because the rest of the world also has some kind of Christmas happening, even if it’s different.)

Whereas Easter is virtually only chocolate eggs.

Don’t get me started on those eggs! I grew up on cardboard eggs with pretty pictures of Eastery things, or colourful aluminium foil, filled with simple sweets. Whereas Offspring’s friends down the road had a couple of picnic tables set up in their dining room, with row upon row of chocolate eggs; maybe ten each for the three children…

And then there are the feathers. Coloured feathers attached to thin branches of [generally] birch, displayed in some sort of large vase. Although that is for Lent. But I/we think of it as being for Easter, too.

I miss all this! Doesn’t matter that I can have all of it in the house, when I somehow can’t share the (totally non-religious) sentiments with my family. So imagine my pleasure the other week when finding that my friend in Lund had decorated her house in just the right Eastery way! It was so beautiful! And as with Christmas, it wasn’t exactly the same as mine, but you could tell we were on the same wavelength.

Easter witches

In protest I got out more decorations than usual a few days ago. I wanted to do my solitary Easter appreciation surrounded by more chickens and witches than I normally do. I’m puzzling over what to do foodwise, as not all the potential Easter type food will suit all the eaters.

Eggs. Real ones. What else?

We’d grill hot dogs on the Easter bonfires. I suppose an induction hob would do..? Not sure what the reaction to raw egg with lots of sugar would be. Yum?

I’ve still got a few hours to work something out.


These two chaps look a wee bit tired. Unless the leaning aspect of the bigger one has to do with the over-indulging of, well, of something.


Chocolate eggs maybe. Or scrambled eggs. With salmon.

I’m sorry, I’m only capable of thinking about Easter Sunday brunch. The Blåkulla flight last night was tiring. I’m the one who should be leaning against walls. But we’re definitely not having chicken.

Easter witches

It’s Easter Saturday and it’s time for the witches to fly to Blåkulla, wherever that is. It’s odd how you never stop and ask these questions, but simply accept what you are told.

Maybe I should get out some [veggie] sausages to burn over a bonfire, too.

Here are the two witches I grew up with. They look quite content with life, which I expect is because they haven’t seen the giant chicken behind them…

Kyckling med påskkärringar

Although age is beginning to tell. One has lost her kettle (so easily done), and the other has a broom that is more stick than broom. Oh well.

Easter lilies


I know. They aren’t Easter lilies. I imagine there is no such thing. It’s a literal translation of the Swedish påsklilja. And there you might also find they flower round Easter. In England they are usually long gone by then.

Besides, my green fingers have never really stretched to daffodils. I plant them, and one or two feeble ones turn up one year, never to be seen again.


The Easter turbo broom

Further to our argument two years ago, I would like to introduce you to this year’s broom model. Yes, I have upgraded my transport, and as I fly this evening, trying to avoid those unfriendly bonfires on the ground, I will be travelling in style.

The turbo broom

I shall be so much more comfortable this year with something to rest both hands on and a light to show me where I’m going! Marvellous.

Despite the 2010 ‘quarrel,’ I maintain that there will be fires, because I am right. So while you settle down in comfort after hiding all those eggs for the hunt, spare me a thought, because it will be chilly up there.

Picking picture books

I have a nice and varied pile of picture books here. I’ll start with Nick Sharratt’s Fancy Dress Farmyard, which is precisely what it sounds like. Pig and Donkey and the others dress up and cover their faces with masks. And then they have a party. Lovely illustrations as ever.

Picture books

And – in no particular order – we have The Snorgh and the Sailor by Will Buckingham and Thomas Docherty. The illustrations will appeal to the adults who end up reading this to their little ones. It’s about putting up with new ideas and not being a stick-in-the-mud, and to look for friendship in unlikely places.

The magic word pops up in Never say NO to a Princess, by Tracey Corderoy and Kate Leake. The princess takes a while, but she gets it in the end, with the help of her friend the dragon.

Ben Blathwayt tells a lovely tale in Minnow and the Bear. Minnow may be small, but he can do things, too. He ‘grows up’ and he makes a new friend and he saves the day. Eventually.

Arthur has a dream in Polly Dunbar’s Arthur’s Dream Boat, but no one will listen. So he has to insist on telling them what happened. Lovely Dunbar-ish illustrations as you’d expect.

Finally, we have Jez Alborough’s Six Little Chicks, because it’s almost Easter. There is a most disturbing picture of the innocent little chicks and a great big fox peering in at them. How will it end?

Yes, how will it end? Not necessarily as you’d expect.


A quiet Easter Sunday

After 15 years of egg hunts on Easter Sunday, we will finally have a peaceful and somewhat boring morning. Not even going away and staying in other people’s houses deterred us in the past. There would be an egg hunt. No one will be surprised to hear that I told people that I’d be placing eggs all over their house and they had better not upset any of my hiding places.

Beanie Chick

It probably took me as long to learn that whereas the eggs belong on Easter Sunday, the Hot Cross Buns are actually wanted on Good Friday. We had years of me not getting them out until it was ‘too late’.


You’re getting a short post today, not because the shops are closed, because Bookwitch never closes (or so it seems), but because there is plenty on Doctor Who and Sarah Jane over on CultureWitch.