Spring festival type thing...

Well it's that time of the year when you religious types celebrate things rising from the dead (you see, you do have things in common with us gothic types...we like vampires and zombies too!). In the Monkey household, it is this time of the year when the Black Rabbit of Inlé visits the garden to shit chocolate.....(which part of 'goth' didn't you understand?).

The Black Rabbit of Inlé - Sapphire Gamgee

This results in the annual Monkey House egg hunt. You are never too old to have an egg hunt in my opinion. And there is nothing more rewarding than watching children running round the garden, like headless chickens, whilst you know where the bodies are buried....so to speak! Of course, on occasion, the egg hunt has gone on for so long that one does actually forget where one hid them. Of course, Lolli is wise to this now and waits, like some patient, overfed vulture, to see if any of the spoils of plunder will come her way. Now, I'm sure you are aware that chocolate is poisonous to dogs. Lolli seems to be the exception to this rule and is a regular indulger of all things under canine prohibition, if given half the chance. I have lost more than one half-pound bar of Galaxy to that mutt; along with cups of tea and glasses of Baileys. And don't even get me started on the amount of chicken carcasses she has stolen from the bin, it would appear she has a cast iron constitution. However, I have now taken steps to ensure she doesn't get her paws on all that spring time chocolate goodness.....I now only leave plastic eggs, filled with boiled sweets, at terrier height. I also count all of the chocolate eggs out and all of them back in, to ensure that none stay in the garden unaccounted for! (I have to write this down.....I am an old fart after all).

There would appear to have been a delivery!

Now the assault from beloved children, starts the minute I open my eyes. "Has the Easter Bunny been? Has the Easter Bunny been?" No, the Easter Bunny hasn't had a cup of tea or even managed to make it from the bedroom to the toilet yet! This continual 'pester power' carries on until I eventually lose the plot and explode in a fit of motherly expletives. Now Dude has only recently realised that the Easter Bunny is not in fact some kind hearted, leporine egg donator; but a grumpy, middle aged old goth who needs a caffeine intake prior to secreting, or indeed loosing, chocolate treats around the garden.

Competition is fierce, someone may lose a limb!

We have been lucky, the past few years, as the weather has been favourable for an outside hunt. Only once, in recent years, have I been forced to hide ovoid treats about the house, much to the interest of our chocolate loving canine.

You would think by now, that my soon to be 16 year old would be too cool for running bedlam like, around the garden for a few bits of cheap chocolate. But no, it would appear it is quite easy to sell one's street cred down the Swanee for a little of the cocoa bean! No doubt beer and ladies will have the same effect in a few years time...although I draw the line at hiding eligible batchellorettes around the property! I might concede to hiding a few tinnies though. Although not that early on a Sunday morning! Seems like only yesterday it was Pokemon and Yugi-Oh, now it's posh trainers and jeans that show more underwear than Katie Price on a photo shoot. I despair, although I suppose it's the rebellious equivalent of me dying my hair black and stomping around in Doc Martins and tartan mini skirts....and just as practical. The wind didn't half used to whip around ones nether regions. Although I tended to wear at least two pairs of garishly clashing tights underneath, albeit somewhat ripped and often 'fish netted'.

It would appear that a teenager can sniff out chocolate with only the minimum of training

Of course! This large, lazy cat will help me sniff out eggs

One thing that emerged with egg hunting, fairly early on, was that Dude has no real talent for finding eggs. Gee's patient, methodical hunting reaps him the lions share and so pooling the egg finds is the only way to ensure fairness between brothers. Dude's manic 'run around without actually lifting anything' method, fails to produce much but he has fun and big brother is magnanimous enough to sit back and allow him to play the 'colder'/'warmer' game....for a few minutes anyway.

I have considered taking them to organised egg hunts, but both boys are too old for anything local and boredom would soon set in for Number 1 son, if I could persuade the organisers to allow number 2 son to join in. And number 2 son would be reluctant to share his finds.

I have to say though, that my favourite part of Easter Sunday is the chance to splurge out on a nice joint of dead cow. A good piece of beef is too expensive for our budget normally, so it's nice to have a big lump of it on occasion. It does last for three meals, so I justify it to myself that way...although what I will do with three quarters of a jar of horseradish sauce I don't know?

Dead cow and a few veggies from the garden....nom, nom, nom