as in: Happy Easter. Easter seems to be so much less of a big deal in this country than in England, and not just because most of our HP neighbors celebrate Passover - no public holidays surrounding it; no hoopla about what the weather's like, or the Big Holiday Get-Away, and certainly very few chocolate eggs in the shops. Indeed none, in Whole Foods (which was, however, open - people at least take note of Easter in that all the malls are closed).
I can't remember where this particular marble egg came from - Florence, I think, but when? It can stand for a number of items in the basement (yes, I've spent most of another day down there) which I like, which I even feel sentimental about - but about which I have absolutely no idea about their provenance. This seems odd to me - my mother can tell you where everything in 20 Hillside came from, it would seem - and who gave it to whom, and when, and if it was a present from my great-aunt's French pen-pal's family, and so on. And I can't do that with nearly enough objects - at least, not ones that go back thirty years or so.