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A year ago today, we said good-bye.

In an ugly hospital room, surrounded by friends and family, my mom gave up her failing, earthly body for the arms of Jesus. And if I’m honest, it felt too soon. This wasn’t the script I’d written. There were more grandbabies for her to hold. More laughter and smiles for her to wrap us in. More life.

It seems fitting that this one year anniversary falls on Good Friday: a day marked by death and sorrow. A day for tears and mourning. A day when the clothes are black, the mood somber. But what man meant for evil, God meant for Good — even death upon a cross.

Because Good Friday holds such GOOD news.  Read more

A hint of cardamom hangs in the air, homemade almond paste and fresh whipping cream sit tantalizingly inside our fridge. It’s that time of year again – the season for semlor.

Unless you’ve been fortunate enough to visit Sweden during Lent, or you know some amazing Swedes who like to bake delicious desserts for you, you’re probably wondering, “What is a Semla?”

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As a child, the first signal of an approaching Easter was always the night that we’d get to dye eggs. The table would be set with glasses of brightly coloured water and a dozen, gleaming, hard boiled eggs would await each of us. We’d begin to dip and dunk the little white ovals, excitedly watching them transform before our very eyes. Our baskets would soon be filled with rainbow splashed, multi-hued masterpieces. Every year there was an egg we were proud of, an ugly egg that we hid behind the others, and at least one egg with a crack. Nestled in little woven baskets around the house, we would proudly leave our creations on display for the duration of the Easter season.

It’s been several years since I last decorated an egg, but now that I’ve got a little one of my own, it’s time to revive this time-honoured tradition. (Even if this year our baby Ali-gator doesn’t get to touch them.)

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For Easter this year, I decided that I wanted to take a trip down memory lane and use decorated eggs as my table centerpiece. In the past, I’ve only dyed hard boiled eggs but was looking for a longer lasting option. Since we will most likely be decorating alongside a pair of tiny hands in the future, I knew that this Easter would be the perfect opportunity to try something new: blowing out the eggs.

I had no idea what to expect and envisioned at least one exploding egg, complete with raw yolk running down my face and shards of sharp shell in my hair. I figured that I’d go through an entire carton, cracking eggs left and right, before one emerged unscathed. Needless to say, I did not have high hopes for this project. But, I am happy to say that this apprehension was completely unfounded.

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