Lamb Butter and Egg Licker

If only all weekends were three days long, life would be so much more relaxing and so much more fun. After having the day off on Friday, I met Becky for dinner at a Tibetan restaurant. We ate, we knitted (purple sweater got lots of attention this weekend) and we caught up on our lives. One topic of conversation was marital finances versus dating finances, an area that was much examined between Paul and I this week. I think Paul and I have concluded that a joint checking account is not for us unless we want to spend our lives getting cranky at each other.
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On Saturday it was date night, which is something Paul and I need to do more often. We saw Jeffrey Foucault in concert at The Atwood Tavern in Cambridge. It was nice to be out and away from the who-is-walking-the-dog-did-you-mail-the-rent-the-garbage-needs-to-go-out type of talk us old married folks tend to have. We liked it:

Today is Easter. I spent a part of the day hanging out with some ladies that were generously brought together by Beth and Susan.

We feasted on a variety of foods, many of which were linked to the contributor's family traditions. Apparently Chicagoans have the need for lamb-shaped items during Easter, including this lamb cake:

Beth and Susan also put forth a mighty effort to procure a lamb shaped butter to no avail. Lamb butter! That is craziness. When comparing other family Easter traditions I discovered that I was the only one who had Cadbury Creme Eggs hidden for me in addition to regular hard boiled eggs. That might explain why I am amongst the adults who like them. I can see why so many people think they are foul but I dig 'em.
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Last but not least, I went to see Becky and Erin who were preparing their Easter feast a few blocks from Beth's. Since I skipped out before the egg dying at Beth's, Erin was nice enough to dye me an egg. I wanted a photo for you all but at this time of night it was hard to find a place that was lit well enough for a photo. So I was trying some shots out around the house. Let me walk you through what happened.
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What about in this room where the dogs are?

Yeah. That works but I don't like my hand in the shot. How about on the dog?

Nooooo!!! Don't lick my egg!

Tchazo (the egg licker) is now following me around the house, staring at me, seemingly wondering why I took away his tasty vinegar and dye coated treat.