Easter Triduum

We'll need a few brief words on the Stranges' long weekend here:

1. On Maundy Thursday, we decided to buy a CR-V instead a Rav4 because Toyota and I don't have the same supply-and-demand curve.
2. On Good Friday, we actually bought said CR-V. Randy's early-morning offer almost let us cave into Toyota's demands--thanks, again--but we were resolved. After 6 weeks (seriously) of begging various Toyota dealers to have mercy on us and struggling (not very successfully) against frustration, we easily negotiated a below-invoice sale on a moonroof, "Sahara Sand Metallic" car attached. Also on Good Friday, we had fun hibachi with my entire family and the true Bachmans spoke a little gracious Japanese to our chef. Happy birthday, Aunt Vicki, with belated greetings again to Mom and Emily.
3. On Resurrection Sunday, we decided we'd really gotten a grand vehicle. We showed the CR-V to the last member of my family who hadn't yet seen it: Dr. Phifer (Grandma Esther had already spun it to Wal-Mart the day before). After a veritable Easter feast (scrumptious roasted chickens, primo citrus cream pasta, crunchy green-bean salad, bread, and chocolate cake) with the family, Micah and I hardly knew what to do with ourselves. Go look at cars, we wondered? Nah. Just sat around and read instead.

And what does one read on Easter? As if you had to ask. The only thing that's right for the season:

The dripping blood our only drink,
The bloody flesh our only food:
In spite of which we like to think
That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood--
Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.

Why, TS Eliot's "East Coker" from Four Quartets, of course (that being its fourth movement's final stanza). After all, the Easter season is not for car buying but for worship. This Lord's Day reminds us we will one day rise from the dead with Jesus and everyone else who belongs to Him. "That will be fun," as Myles Roberts said (litotes, ha, litotes). Yes, I think it will.