Obviously over the 'pond' you do Easter much better than we do it here, because a UK Easter is something I am sending to Mordor. Ever since childhood I have found it utterly tedious. Even chocolate doesn't really make it any better because I've not got that much of a sweet tooth so I just feel nauseous if I go down the comfort eating route. The only tiny chink of light is the fact I can have some freebie days off work.
As a child I spent every Easter sitting in the family caravan on top of a Yorkshire moor, shivering and listening to the incessant rain thundering down on the tin roof above. I would think of all the great TV I'd be missing, such as The Muppet Show Special or double editions of Starsky and Hutch. The TV was only switched on for the news as we had to save the battery, being there for four days instead of the usual two.
Later there would be a game of I-spy or some other attempt to alleviate tedium, and you'd wish you had your new toys to play with, that been left at home as there wasn't room in the car for them. If the rain stopped you might get to go and play on the roundabout with some other kids but then you'd get done when you got in as you'd be plastered in mud.
Now when you are grown up the tedium has not abated. You live just 10 miles from lovely places like Chatsworth but know that if you dare get the car out to go, you will spend most of the day in a stress inducing traffic jam that runs five miles out of Bakewell and then not be able to park in any case. Either that or your walk will be disturbed by hordes of families on holiday, shouting, yelling and pushing you off footpaths as they haul 15 prams and buggies halfway up Mam Tor.
Your other option is to submit to the traditional UK Easter celebration of going to B&Q, where some oik will dent your car as he slams his van door into your car, a mother will screech your ears out as she yells at her kids, and you will wait for 15 minutes at the checkout only for a surly girl chewing gum to shut it down as your turn comes around.
Easter Sunday is the worst of all. Nothing on TV as the schedulers believe everyone will be on holiday, nothing open, and what is open is too busy to go to. So you decide to cook a huge meal which ends up in you lying on the sofa all evening in a bloated, uncomfortable heap in front of some tedious granny drama like Heartbeat. Then you wake up on Easter Monday and start feeling miserable about having to go back to work next day.
At least Christmas is enlivened by the decorations and presentses.
The only way to make yourself feel better is to have a misanthropic rant about it.
