It was late April before we became aware that we had definitely not found all of the Easter eggs in our indoor Easter egg hunt. We searched everywhere, but the smell just got stronger. It was June before we finally found what was left of the egg in our elder daughter’s boot in a back closet. It smelled bad. Really, really bad. This was not too surprising in a home where a brother once presented his sister with a basket of rabbit droppings and said solemnly, “See, the Easter Bunny was here.”
Not too surprising that we made the executive decision that all future egg hunts were to be held outside, rain or not.
In those days we were none too careful about egg safety. We certainly didn’t know that about 1 in every 20,000 eggs is contaminated with salmonella, according to the Centers for Disease Control. It’s recognizing the bad one that’s the problem.
My grandmother made Easter babies, strips of bread wound around an egg and baked. My mother constructed beautiful egg creatures, using wax and old jewelry, to make details like swan wings and crowns. I can’t do that.
For me, this is the time to be in touch with old friends. A favorite friend for me is Elizabeth Mahon, a woman I never met in real life, but she’s very close to me. I saw the display about her life at the Prairie House Museum in Parkland.
Easter and spring, a chance to remember. It always makes me think of Mrs. Mahon’s tablecloth. The cloth had a few strips torn out of it (for material to clean rifles). Very plain China, but it always makes me smile. It seems the perfect example of Washington hospitality.
Elizabeth Mahon was a warm and hospitable pioneer wife. I began to wonder what she was doing in our new land. How did she get here before the wagon trains? The answer was that she was an Army wife and kept up the Fort Steilacoom commander’s wardrobe. For those who, like me, have been young Army wives, it’s a wonderful story.
When she saw travelers on the way, she would go up to meet them, invite them to dinner, and even offer the ladies a bath. There are many diary entries telling about her hospitality. The Oregon Trail ended here, but Mrs. Mahon spread love and welcome far.
Elizabeth Mahon is buried at the Brookdale Golf Course. I like to think of her as the beginning point of our Washington hospitality. You don’t have to know someone to love them.
Where to find Dorothy Wilhelm Find Dorothy’s virtual events and podcasts at www.itsnevertoolate.com. You can also find her on YouTube, Spotify, Apple or wherever you get podcasts. Read more on The News Tribune website.