Tag Archives: grandchildren

Definitely Not Pysanka

Each year I used Ukrainian egg dyes and traditional patterns to make lovely dyed eggs to share with my friends and family. I was proud of the way they looked. I even taught other people to dye eggs. But this year I thought I’d try something new. I wanted to try dying eggs using natural dyes.

This morning I went shopping for ingredients. I bought two kinds of onions, beets, purple cabbage, cranberries, carrots with tops, and turmeric. I had already cooked four little eggs last night, one for each grandchild.

eggs easter start 2015

I boiled up the ingredients, each dye lot in its own pot, then transferred the dye to a stainless steel bowl when enough time had passed for them to have a good colour.

I drew the first initial of each grandchild’s name on the eggs, then, when the dye was dry, I covered the letter with wax from a birthday candle. (This was something my older sister and I had done as kids – written our names in invisible wax before we dyed our eggs). So after that I dipped the eggs in the appropriate dye bath and presto! Easter eggs.

The biggest surprise was the red cabbage, which gave me a lovely blue colour (T) but turned sort of violet (J) when I added vinegar. The pink egg (S) was made with two dyes, cranberries and beets. And the one I thought worked best (B) is yellow from turmeric. The onion skins and carrot tops dye didn’t look festive to me so I didn’t use it. I shone the eggs up with olive oil and here they are.

eggs Easter 2015

They certainly aren’t Pysanky eggs. They aren’t even anything special, really. But they are made with love and it was fun trying something new.


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Ups and Downs

Do you ever feel like you’re on a roller-coaster?  I do.  Sometimes I feel so low that I feel life isn’t worth  as much as a piece of mud.  My life feels as boring as the seventeenth day of rain.  My life is as dull as a plate of cold mashed potatoes.  But then the phone rings and one of my grandkids says, “Hi Gramma” and I feel as happy and warm as a sunflower at noon.

Or I might be walking on a beach, or writing a story, or crocheting a fancy hat, and then someone will bring up debts, dentists, or some other obligation, and I’m back to feeling like I’m a piece of dust under my foot.

I’m dealing with this instability on all fronts.  I’m trying to attack this moodiness with exercise, music, reading, thinking, breathing, and so on.  Please wish me luck in regaining my equilibrium, folks.

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