Smells like vinegar

Mama, Papa, my older sister Becky, and me

Mama, Papa, my older sister Becky, and me

Easter smells like vinegar and wood shavings.

The reason is the dyes for the hard-boiled eggs require vinegar to set the color.

So, as a kid and as a mother-acting-like-a-kid, we dyed hard-boiled eggs rainbow colors like pink, green, yellow and blue.

They’d end up in our lunches the next week, always a little bashed and sad-looking.

My grandparents visited every Easter when I was little.

Granny saved her Osage tribal money for shoes for the four of us.

We’d get black or white patent-leather shoes to wear to Sunday school, careful to avoid the grass stains from hunting eggs.

My grandfather would bring an animal each year in a box lined with wood shavings.

Rabbits. Guinea pigs. Hamsters. Turtles. Parakeets.

The animals had the habit of disappearing after Easter.

I never solved the mystery of where they went.

Advertisements

About Cynthia Coleman Emery

Professor and researcher at Portland State University who studies science communication, particularly issues that impact American Indians. She is enrolled with the Osage tribe.
This entry was posted in american indian, authenticity, Indian, native american, native press, Native Science, Osage, writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s