Easter Ham 07

Happy Easter, everyone!

We decided (and invited) ourselves to Steven's brothers yesterday. While thinking of what to make, Steven speaks up.
"We're bringing the ham for Easter."
"What?"
"I already volunteered for us to bring the Honeybaked Ham,"
"A ham? Are you sure? That's expensive..."

I wondered why he'd volunteer a ham. We are by far, not wealthy people. Our checkbook was already about $200 in the red, and there's nothing better than a nice sweet potato casserole, is there? But no. So I called the honeybaked ham company, and made arrangements to pick up our $60 ham.
We drove through Atlanta Easter traffic, our girls clad in sweaters and jeans. The Easter outfits wouldn't fly, due to the 22 degree weather.
(My hydrangeas! My crepe myrtles! Crud.)
So we went South to a little farm in Homer. And We ate the ham. We drank Sweet tea, like only a Georgian can make and keep stocked up in gallon jugs. (In Florida, it's only unsweet, folks! You would think they'd know that you have to add the sugar while its hot, otherwise you just get floating sugar in unsweet tea...) We had a great day. Naomi raced her cousins, & Shanna stayed up on the gate, bonding with Padme, their palomino.
There were baby chicks, puppies; there were kittens born that day. Hens in trance, laying eggs. Wooly mules. Freeze tag. Boys and men talking about handmade knives, how much honey the bees produced that year, staying up all night, lighting fires under the orchards trees, all in vain.
The sun setting, it was time to head for home. We stopped at a Starbucks drive thru, got a couple Toffee Nut Lattes, and made the two hour drive back. The girls babbled until they fell asleep in the back.
Sometimes Wealth can be deceiving. In my town, old tin box singlewides abound. On the way home from school, there's an aluminum can of a trailer off a corner lot. Spring and summer months, the door is swung open, probably due to a lack of A/C. No screen door, no porch, but fenced in front, a giant black horse. A horse than watches passers by, a little streak of white across his nose. We ride by, and Shanna waves. Sometimes Wealth is the big black horse in the yard. I doubt too many people would even dispute that.
We get home and let the dog in. Sometimes wealth is the dog, happy to come in and see you. The dog that never chews anything, and can hold his bladder all night long while he sleeps beside your bed. If you know a dog like that, you are dog wealthy, like us.
And every time, Wealth is your children, too sleepy to walk, their heads on your shoulders, while you hold them with one arm, and dig for your keys with the other.
Today, I sliced off the leftover meat from the "cadillac of all hams," and the bone went in a pot, along with a bag of dried pinto beans. My kind of wealth isn't too bad.
Here's wishing all of you every Health, Wealth, and Happiness...

Much love- Kat Lee