Easter not as planned

From pancake Tuesday to Easter is Lent.  Traditionally, Christians give up some pleasure over that period.  I relinquished alcohol but wasn’t sure I’d last out, so didn’t broadcast.  Somehow, friends and relatives seemed immediately to sense my decision and began to buy me drinks.  

So for me, Lent began three days late. 

  

After that I did pretty well and even enjoyed my sobriety.  But I DID slip up several times. 

However, each time, I forgave myself and gave up again.

Easter was fast approaching.  I like to be at home for Easter to take communion in my home church and exchange the sign of peace (a handclasp or embrace) with old friends.  Plus, for later there was a bottle of prosecco chilling in the fridge. 

Easter Sunday dawned bright and the white blossom of our mirabelle tree gleamed against the sky.  But I couldn’t get out of bed, and neither could Carenza or Pascoe. 

We had flu.  Not just a nasty cold.  As soon as I heard Nigel and Perran leave for church, I rolled over and went back to sleep.  If you need a measure of how ill I felt, it didn’t even occur to me to regret the prosecco.

BUT, tomorrow is another day.

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