Easter is one of my favorite holidays. Growing up, Easter was all about Lent, fish on Fridays, the Stations of The Cross, The Glorious Mysteries, the Resurrection; the religious aspects of the holiday, of course. That's what Easter IS about. But also, all the tie-ins: the deeper meanings commercialized - massive dozens of eggs for decorating, coconut covered bunny cakes, and hidden baskets heaped with candy. A big family Easter dinner. Kite flying, and if it was a warm Easter, maybe getting the bikes out. Lots of time spent outdoors after mass.

I got up early last Saturday, to drive north for the Easter weekend. The wind was strong, with a blue sky and a lot of sunshine, so I stopped in Baxter to pick up eight kites and some bubbles. Before I drove out to the lake, I went to my brother's place just west of Jenkins. It's right near where we grew up; the whole area has that familiar, comfortable feel of home.

The kids tore into their candy with great enthusiasm, the same way we'd have done when we were little. They surely have no idea how much fun they are. My brother suggested they not eat too much right away, as 1.) they'd not had candy for all of Lent, and 2.) they hadn't had lunch yet. No one seemed to hear this suggestion. The living room was a cacophony of speedy, layered conversations: Hey, I've had these before! Can you open this? Daddy can I eat the chocolate bunny? (No.) And from round faced, solemn Josiah, quietly sitting by me on the floor, plucking candy from his bag: Whut dis? An whut dis?

Luke gets up to demo his skill on the piano. He's new to playing, and taught himself. He plinks out Fur Elise. I repeat: they surely have no idea how delightful they are.

My brother Paul is visiting, and he mentions that we should all go kite flying over on the meadow by Ol Yeller. He called it Mary's Meadow. No sooner were the words spoken, and the room was empty - every kid ran to get a coat.

There's no turning back - eleven of us pile into Joe and Amber's bus-sized van. (Three rows of back seats, with room for two in the front...). Amber comes home with more kites just before we leave, and now we have more than enough for everyone.

It's the perfect amount of wind for kite flying. And blue sky and sunshine. Those white puffy clouds that look like imaginary anythings.

We fly kites and blow bubbles and explore the old sheds, till everyone's had enough, and pile back into the van to go home.

Before I leave, Anna and Rosie show me their bunkhouse in the backyard. There are two bunk beds for a sleepover, and a cool loft up above, and plenty of places to swing from and jump off. Although, as Rosie shows me a maneuver that propels her feet precariously from a shelf to awfully near a window, she tells me she's really not exactly supposed to be doing it. I ask them what's the 'worst' thing they did out here that they did not get in trouble for. They both thought about it for a minute and agreed that it was when they wanted to paint the outside of the bunkhouse pink and purple, got the paint and brushes and were just going to start painting when they were spotted by one of the boys. Plan foiled.

It does bear (continuous) repeating. They certainly have no idea how much fun they are.