The high-pitched whine of a high performance motorcycle sped into the intersection and woke me up. It’s a beautiful Easter Sunday morning in Southern Vermont, but it doesn’t feel like Easter, except for the weather. The sky is blue with wisps of high altitude clouds to the North. I think it will rain later today, but I’m not sure. I haven’t heard the forecast.

Breakfast: no orange juice in the fridge, and not much butter. But it’ll have to do since I don’t really want to go to the store. There’s a ruby-red grapefruit to squeeze anyway. Turned the frying pan on too high, crisped the eggs, and managed to stretch that little dollop of butter to cover two slices of warm French bread.

My workshop is cool, but it feels good on bare arms. I’ll just stay long enough to glue up a few pieces of wood for the new cabinet I’m building. Don’t want to make a mess this early, and on Sunday morning –an Easter morning, and don’t think I’ll have to. I don’t. When I get out here to work, which isn’t often these days, I feel nostalgia for older dreams. But once I dust things off and start rearranging the workbench and sweeping up, it feels comfortable and familiar and I’m in the present. The smell of freshly cut lumber, and the noises made while puttering around, is a balm.

Easter dinner is at two this afternoon. We’ll be driving north about 40 miles, a little after twelve. The trip is pleasant passing through the lovely Mettowee Valley. It’s even nicer when we leave early enough not to be rushed. The big three holiday dinners are seasonal rituals at my sister’s in-laws. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter dinner. By default, for many years now and always a beautiful table. Pretty much the same crowd, though the faces come and go now that the nieces and nephews are growing and finding their own lives and patterns. The average age at the table, keeps creeping up. We hold hands and my mother says an impromptu grace. Some will listen; others will fidget and be a little less respectful than I like. Lots of conversation and laughter, and maybe even material for a YouTube video. Only for private viewing though.

Daffodil blades are peeking through the grass, the forsythia bush near the front garden fence is blooming and beautiful –earlier than any other forsythia in town, and the lilac buds are growing fatter. The fragrance of the lilac, not here yet, but soon. Just thinking of that smell is heaven. All those promising signs of things to come, and that the next 5 months will be warmer, are so welcome. Every year, it’s the same. Thankfully.

-photo credit: Leyla Torres

I learned to play checkers when I was very young. I was probably about 7 years old and I clearly remember my first few lessons. My teacher was a friend, also about 7 –maybe even eight, and he seemed to know everything about the game.

We played for hours on the living room floor where he taught me how to strategically advance my pieces across the board, feint left, move right, devour my opponent, and king as many pieces as possible.

Try as I might though, I could never win.

The problem I thought was in my lack of skill, and intelligence. I just couldn’t remember all the intricacies of the rules. For every move I made there was some reason I couldn’t, and those darn rules just seemed to keep changing.

For example: black pieces were allowed to jump around corners but not red pieces, at least when I was playing with the red ones. Red pieces could move backwards and forward, but only when I was playing with the black ones. I could never understand why I  always had the disadvantage.

And so it went.

It’s an amusing and innocent story about children and childhood, but in it there was a valuable life lesson about rules in general; about those who create the rules, about those who obey them, and those who are exempt. The trick is in knowing when the wool is being pulled over our eyes.

Unfortunately, the newly enacted ‘Healthcare Reform Bill’ is yet another example of twisted rules and sleight of hand that leaves most of us fooled but still out in the cold, and holding the bag.

“This bill is not about fiscal responsibility or the common good. The bill is about increasing corporate profit at taxpayer expense. It is the health care industry’s version of the Wall Street bailout. It lavishes hundreds of billions in government subsidies on insurance and drug companies. The some 3,000 health care lobbyists in Washington, whose dirty little hands are all over the bill, have once more betrayed the American people for money.” The Healthcare Hindenberg Has Landed, Chris Hedges READ THE FULL ARTICLE

Enough people will catch-up to those who have caught on, eventually, but until then if you’d like to play an honest game of checkers, you can do so here… =>  http://www.zdaily.com/checkers/index.htm

And by the way, jumping around corners is not permitted, no matter which side you’re on. Fair is fair.