a weekend for kings

What a relaxing Easter weekend we had!

First, it was off to the 900-year-old castle Křivoklát, as I said in my last post.

The next day, we spent the afternoon with my grandmother. As usual, she treated us like kings, preparing a tasty meal for us and then accompanying us to one of the funnest playgrounds for kids. Jonah had a blast. The city is so much friendlier and cheerier filled with warmth and sunshine.

We finished off the holiday with some relaxation at my dad's in the countryside. We sat around and chatted while Jonah played with a neighbor kid, the same age as he: heaven for the parents who could actually carry on an uninterrupted adult conversation or just plain rest. Those who have only children will understand.

Czech Easter tradition dictates that girls and women get whipped with hand-braided whips made from willow switches. For that purpose, I brought a pillow to stuff into my pants to pad my behind: an Easter butt, as Jonah aptly dubbed it. My little gallant knight was ready to protect me. When I told him all about how the Czechs celebrate Easter, he decided -- instead of the predictable "oh great, time to whip the girls like there's no tomorrow" -- to be my protector and to use his weapons to ward off all the evil whipping maniacs. Fortunately I am so old that I only got whipped by my dad just so I don't think I've been forgotten: two light taps on my Easter tush. What a change from the time when I was younger when Easter was the most terrifyingly electrifying holiday. That and St. Nicholas Day when the devil comes to take bad children to hell. On his first Easter in the old country, Tim stayed out of this strange pagan ritual. No "when in Rome, do as the Romans do." Instead, he buried his nose in his New York Times bestseller.

After the whipping, we were served a great lunch by my step-mom, and then, along with another family, we accompanied my dad on his favorite activity: fishing. My dad picked a spot that had a huge, fat sign specifying that fishing is strictly forbidden in the lake. That fact obviously posed no obstacle. About a half hour into our fete, the actual owner of the lake showed up and set up shop across the water from us. He seemed not to care we were there at all. Perhaps he already knew my dad and had worked out some sort of a deal with him. No one knew for sure, but our fishing expedition continued unhindered.


The ladies just sat there, chiding the men who competed in how many carp each caught and released. The boys fished out slimy grass with sticks, calling the green stuff fish and taking turns frying it for each other. Fun times. Jonah got his first sunburn on his arms. Not to worry. It was very mild.

For more pics, go here and scroll down to the bottom of the page.

Though we didn't in any way celebrate Passover since my dad is one of those ultra assimilated types, I did get a box of matzah to take home. Jonah thought the biggest cracker he has ever eaten was so cool. I am glad, because I was already thinking of reviewing the video I watched last year about all the many things one can do with matzah: