Easter in the big PA

It's official: I spent my first Easter in snow. On the east coast. In Pennsylvania. Let me begin by stating that I was born and raised in southern California, used to sun on Christmas, not to mention Easter. It's just natural to have put on a fresh easter dress, full of floral patterns and pastel prints, and be grateful that an over-sized rabbit was kind enough to hide plastic eggs full of peeps (my favorite as a child, you see). As luck would have it, Friday night produced snow so that that we woke up on Saturday to beautiful white scenery. I was excited. And cold.





The visit to New Wilmington, PA was the first visit of the paternal side of the Hartwell family, and it really was enjoyable, and educational. When you're boyfriend is from a town where the Amish reside, tottling around town in their buggies (not carriages, I was corrected many-a-time), you learn a thing or two of his make up. His "crazy" uncle, who's a DJ in Pittsburgh, was kind enough to share a story about some of his favorite Amish. Because the Amish aren't allowed to share in the glories of the modern age (electricity, music, neon fabrics, and alcohol), they were a bit unsure about how to proceed when presented with such worldy pleasures. Uncle Jon said when, say, Marvin Gaye soulfully sang his songs, his Amish friends would get down as tough it was Kanye.


The weekend was really fun, and having the opportunity to meet his family was great. We: went on a hike through the woods near Tom's old house, and successfully got his sister Anna caught in some disgarded barbed wire; had a successful outdoor easter egg hunt in the cold; went to church; played magnetic darts with the board on Daniel's head; and ate a lot. It was a busy weekend indeed.