I love Easter. It's like Christmas without the stress. And the wrapping.
It was all low key, traditional stuff here. Nothing fancy.
Of course, the book buying ban ended at the weekend and a trip to Waterstones resulted in a decent haul. Oh, joy.
There was also church and buns on Good Friday, baking aplenty (brownies, Simnel cake, scones, lemon sponge, Easter biscuits), giving chocolate eggs, receiving chocolate bunnies, not venturing too far.
As I said, a lot like Christmas.
The weather was far too hot and squint inducing bright for me (no surprises there, then). And I really cannot delight in sky rocketing temperatures after watching this, which had me in tears in the first five minutes. Actually, I can't recall when we last had rainfall in these parts.
But on Easter Sunday we needed to work up an appetite for all those bakes so, covered in a thick layer of factor 50 and leaving the car on the drive, off we toddled.
We live in an industrial town in the north east which isn't the prettiest (far from it) but we're just a stone's throw from woods, hedgerows, fields, animals.
Not long into the walk, we bumped into our ex-next door neighbour who recently moved with his family to a farmhouse just up the lane. He invited us to have a look round. I didn't need asking twice (no, you're a nosey parker).
Oh. my. goodness. Serious house envy. There are stunning views from every single window (blinds and curtains unnecessary) and the extensive renovation work is clearly very high quality and in keeping with the nature of the setting (said ex-neighbour is an architect, which probably helps). I had to be dragged out.
Further on, past the dilapidated farm buildings, we stumbled across a little bluebell wood. And, a little further, lambs.
Then it was back home for a bout of seasonal overindulgence.
I love Rennies, me.