Easter weekend came and went quietly here, following the same rhythm it has in this household since the boys were young.

Late on Easter eve after all the boys were asleep, we scattered the candy-filled, plastic eggs around the yard, despite the likelihood (and the actuality) of an overnight rain. The boys awoke to find their baskets loaded with candy and with a token gift. The gift in recent years has been the Nerf weapon of the season, the same one for each boy so that they will be evenly armed for the ensuing whole-house Nerf battle.

Joshua still participates in the Easter egg hunt, but I think he recognizes with some regret that this might be his last one at home: He invited the brothers to go fishing with him after the egg hunt, a form of togetherness he doesn't often encourage.

After the boys find the eggs, they divide the eggs (this year 180 of them) evenly among themselves, open the eggs to discover what kind of candy they hold, and then they begin to barter, establishing exchange rates for the different denominations of sucrose. Currently, a Snickers bar brings about ten jelly beans or three candy kisses.

When Josh took his brothers fishing after the Nerf battle and the egg hunt, I decided to take advantage of the household quiet, skip the fellowship meeting, and catch up on my grading. Instead, I let a few journals, some editorials and then some other reading distract me until the clearing sky finally drew me outside for a walk, ending any possibility that I might get ahead on my work.

The walk wasn't particularly aerobic because I took the digital camera with me and I stopped too frequently and too long on the KSU campus as I took pictures along the way. I've continued to play with the camera and with the software, so I need more photos almost as much as I need breath. Right.

Holiday dinners usually occur at the grandma's house, but she decided not to take on our crew so soon after recovering from her broken shoulder, which she continues to nurse a bit. So, we grilled hamburgers at home for the first time this season.

This evening Owen and I attended a concert at McCain Auditorium on the KSU campus -- jazz and swing performed by two of the student ensembles. The two groups played a few numbers from Ellington, Basie, Parker and then Quincy Jones. Owen gets extra credit toward his band grade for attending, and could have gotten the credit for staying only until the intermission, but during the break when I suggested that we remain for the second set, he readily agreed to stay.

On the one hand, I think he enjoyed seeing the trombone (his instrument) used so well as a solo instrument by the students. But on the other hand, he must have noticed that the hall was less than half filled, and that the majority of the audience was made up of what the boys call Q-tips, white-haired elders like my parents.

So, it wasn't rock 'n' roll, but he recognized that he was listening to good music.

And none of his buds were there to see him being so uncool.

The outing was a good one for us.