DAD: Easter is not a federal holiday.

ME: I didn't think it was.

DAD: Everyone should get a day off for Easter. Postal employees should get a day off for Easter.

ME: A day off... on Easter Sunday?

DAD: Yes! Martin Luther King Jr has a holiday. Everyone gets the day off for him. I don't think he's more important than Jesus.

...

I seriously can't tell when he's being serious and when he's jerking my chain. I try to assume it's always the latter, but when he says things like "I can't vote for anyone who looks like Stacey Abrams," I do have to wonder.

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It was such a pretty Easter Sunday that I went outside and snapped a pic of Captain Carrot by the mailbox.

One of the biggest differences between Carrot and past yard signs is that this time I put some color on the back, too. This is what it looks like from the house:

Yep, I'm happy with this one.

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Every time I show a picture of my lawn ornaments in the fall and winter, friend Otto teases me about the sorry condition of the yard. So this time, I'm going to give you the pic of how my latest creation looks inside the studio:

That's Captain Carrot, fearless leader of the Zoo Crew!, painted just in time for Easter.

Last year's Easter painting was the chocolate rabbit. I love it so much, I'm disinclined to subject it to another round of elements. (I've never liked sharing my chocolate.) Tragically, I might love this one even more.

If the flowers come out next week, maybe you'll get a second pic of the good Captain.

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Those are all the places Google says I've been in the past month. I also actually accompanied Mom to the vet, which is on that yellow line on the far right side of the image, but I forgot to take my phone with me that time. (You don't know *everything*, Google!)

I don't really mind the shelter-in-place stuff so much. I like being alone. But the stress of being broke while constantly facing down the specter of the death of my family and friends... that's not so fun.

If you're one of the many, many people I've snapped at in recent days, know that it wasn't about you but me. I'm keenly aware that I'm not easy to get along with at the best of times, and lately, I've been an absolute asshat. Sorry about that.

May this Easter holiday signal a rebirth of hope: hope that I'll regain my sanity before summer — or the grim reaper — arrives.

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So, when I took down my Santa Claus decoration for Christmas, I left two anchoring poles embedded in the front yard. Rather than let me pull them out, Mother insisted that I create more decorations for other holidays.

Turns out, I've got nothing else to do.

Introducing my Easter Bunny:

Here's another beside the front door for better scale.

I'm already working on the next piece. (I had to brave a trip to Michael's, where only 10 customers are allowed inside at a time, to pick up some blue paint.) I'll show it off when I get closer to July.

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Now Thomas, one of the twelve, called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, "We have seen the Lord." But he said to them, "Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe."

Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe." Thomas answered him, "Hey, wait. This is just makeup." Jesus said to him, "April Fools!"

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Feast-er your eyes on this vintage Coca-Cola advertisement from 1958:

I learned from Alice in Wonderland not to trust any grinning white rabbits.

But I'd still drink his Coke.

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After months of taunting the Red Bee and his one trick, he's finally proved that it's a pretty darn effective one trick. At least when dealing with children.

At the annual White House Easter Egg Roll this past weekend, the President was interrupted when a single bee buzzed the crowd of children. (He was reading Where the Wild Things Are. Oh, the irony!)

I'm sorry, Red Bee. You've been right all along. Nothing is more frightening than a lone bee. I don't know if it will stop crime, but it will certainly ruin a picnic.

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Easter is all about a man who came back from the dead, so naturally we must be talking about Superman. That description applies doubly to the statue now sitting beside my television.

It was a gift from a friend. He had ordered it for himself from eBay, but when it arrived in a shoebox of broken parts, I got an unexpected gift. Years ago he gave me a cracked copy of the Jan & Dean Meet Batman record album. "Give it to Walter; he'll glue anything!" (This is probably why I can't have nice things.)

Fortunately for Superman, I could rebuild him. I had the technology. Don't tell Steve Austin, but a new tube of 2-part epoxy costs considerably less than 6 million dollars. After a week of wire, tape, glue, and touch-up paint, Superman may not be good as new, but he's much better than he was.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think I hear some peanut-butter filled chocolate eggs calling my name.

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