Bonnets and new shoes

Easter, another feast that makes me think of my mother. She kept the Stapledon/Lord family traditions alive for every occasion. On Good Friday, it was always hot-cross buns; on Easter Sunday, it was always the huge ham, festooned with pineapple rings and studded with bright red cherries. This year, I cooked the turkey I still had in the freezer from Christmas -- yes, my famous "utility" bird -- another of my mother's meat department victories. And when I remove the giblets, I always think of her. She loved nothing better than boiled giblets and bread and butter for lunch the day she was cooking the turkey. And you had to keep the water to make the gravy later; giblet and potato water made the best gravy.

Every Easter we girls were always taken to Armstrong and Richardson's, or Kiddy Kobler when we were younger, and bought new shoes. We also always wore Easter bonnets and little, white gloves to church on Easter Sunday. I remember loving the feel of new shoes. My love affair with shoes and hats started early. Wore my "Queen" hat to Mass on Sunday and -- apart from the beautiful Nigerian women, who always wear spectaclar head adornments -- I was the only woman sporting a hat.

My mother had other quirky traits. She never cooked with garlic, for example. Garlic and pierced ears were for "immigrants". Woe was me the day I came home with pierced ears! And as a young woman, when I discovered garlic, my Dad exclaimed over a meal, "This is delicious! What's in it?" "Garlic," I replied. "Oh, we don't eat garlic," said my very proper mother.

We were so different. As I said in her eulogy, "My mother was as much a surprise to me as I to her."