Home again, home again, buy a fat pig...

Home again, home again, jiggiy jig.

It's a painful realization that traditions continue, only because they are important to one.

Today I went grocery shopping after being away from home for more than a week.

And for Easter Dinner.

Though it will only be the five of us, it's still important to carry on some tradition:

Ham
Escalloped Potatoes
Rolls (homemade)
Asparagus
Jell-o salad
Lettuce salad w/raspberry almond vinaigrette
Other things I can not remember
and Chocolate Pie.

And I sit here.

More than a little intoxicated.

Wondering.

What makes it a tradition?

Is it because it is important to me, or because it is what I know?


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