Well, I was going to share some photos of feasting, festivities and fun but for some reason, my photos haven’t uploaded to the place I usually find them, and I can’t get them off my phone and onto the laptop, so that will have to wait. Instead, I can tell you that, in our house, the past few days have been something of a festival of chocolate. I’m still finding it in the most unlikely places. Neil made some Easter eggs that wouldn’t come out of the moulds, so he made some Easter chocolate bombs, a cake, decorations and other things from half a hundred weight of the stuff, and the fridge is still rammed wit it.
This is one of the aftermaths (he didn’t stick that rabbit on it, someone else did that).

I made bread, which is what these two cake-like things are.

Over the weekend, from Friday until the stillness of Monday morning, there were church services, celebrations, solemn processions, bangers, fireworks, dynamite, dancing, you name it, it was a riot of sound and light. Apparently. We slept through the three nights of dynamite and majestic firework displays, being in bed by nine most nights. I know, I know…
However, we spent a glorious Easter Sunday with the family and friends feasting and laughing, and now we can settle into the season. As often happens when we have an early Easter, there may be a lull for a couple of weeks, but we have sailing boats coming in, the day trip boats are already doing a brisk trade, the Sebeco is running a few times a day, and the tavernas have been busy. It will be interesting to see how some businesses fare this year because, for the first time, everyone now has to clock in and clock out of work. This is, I assume, to protect worker’s rights and ensure people don’t end up doing what people have been doing for years and are still doing, which is working from nine in the morning until midnight without a break. How people who do flexible hours are supposed to manage is yet to be seen. I.e. those employed to meet guests from boats at all hours, or who only need to service properties for an hour here and there, rather than for eight hours a day in one block. We’ll have to wait and see.
Oh, I found this photograph of Limehouse, London taken in 1893, and it got transferred to the blog gallery by accident, so you may as well see it.
