Wednesday, April 14, 2004

Dixie Diva does Easter — Oh, dear

By RONDA RICH

I was hoping this Easter turns out to be better than last year’s. To be honest, by the time the moment arrived to say grace over lunch, I had just about lost the Christian spirit.

The day started out beautifully with a gorgeous sunrise service at lakeside which the Methodists have but generously allow the Baptists and other non-sprinkled converts to attend. I should have stopped there.

But I pressed forward to attend service at my church where parking places and seats are hard to find on holidays. It always puts an unattractive grimace on my face when I can’t sit in my seat.

I have one, you know. Same seat every Sunday except for Easter and Christmas Eve and then I’m lucky to have a seat at all.

After church, I went home to get the food I had prepared to take to my sister’s house. I also dressed Dixie Dew, my darling dachshund, in her new outfit and tiny bonnet for the Easter Parade.

This is a family tradition which spotlights another family tradition, that of beautiful outfits and stunning hats. We line up inside the living room. Then one by one, we priss out the door onto the big veranda and parade down the steps while my brother-in-law videos it and adds witty commentary.

It would not be bragging, merely a statement of honesty, to tell you that I always win the Easter parade. I shop for months to find the most darling hat, outfit and high heels.

I set the food onto the back floorboard of my car. The day before, I had spent all afternoon in the kitchen paying meticulous detail to the cake. It was near perfection.

I slammed the car door and then noticed a puddle of motor oil in front of the garage. A can had sprung a leak and drenched everything nearby including a 50-foot extension cord.

Dressed in a hot pink suit with matching big-brimmed picture hat and heels, I dragged everything out of the oil and disposed of the can. I was marveling at the good grace which had spared my clothes from being soiled when I began calling for Dew so we could leave. She didn’t come.

“You better not be messing up your good clothes,” I called.

I was getting aggravated when I noticed that the driver’s door was ajar. I looked in the front but no Dew. Then I had a terrible thought, one that turned into horrible reality.

There, in the back, sprawled across my perfect cake in her new Easter outfit was Miss Dixie Dew, clawing frantically at the plastic wrap.

I screamed, but unfazed, she kept pawing viciously. I grabbed her and pulled her off the once beautiful but now squashed cake.

I’ll spare the details of my tearful tantrum but after a strong scolding, I plopped her in the front seat and said, “I’ll tell you something, young lady. If you weren’t already dressed up for the Easter Parade, you’d not be going!” She scooted over to the door as far from me as possible, bowed her bonnet-adorned head and refused to look at me.

Everyone was wondering why we were late but one look at my disheveled outfit, smeared mascara and smashed cake answered most questions although my brother-in-law can always think up more.

One consolation, though. Dew and I still won the Easter parade in our matching pink outfits. The cake competition, however, went to my niece.

[Ronda Rich is the author of “What Southern Women Know (That Every Woman Should)” and “My Life In The Pits.” She lives in Gainesville, Ga.]