Over the years, Easter has become something of a family ritual with elements of light comedy. I always try to do everything perfectly: color eggs like, bake 3 kinds of paskas, and still not go crazy. But it usually ends up with my whole kitchen covered in flour, eggs colored with my fingers, and Ivan (my son) demanding to urgently buy chocolate bunnies because “these aren't the right ones”.

Easter is also a moment of reset. Even if you haven't fasted (like me, for example), there is still a feeling that something new is beginning. Spring bursts into life along with the smell of vanilla, birdsong, and a slightly overloaded refrigerator.

And you know, every year I think: I wish a little miracle could happen on Easter. Well, at least that the paska did not bloat on the side, and the eggs were colored evenly. But then I realize: the miracle has already happened. It's when everyone gathers around the table, laughs, shares memories, and you catch yourself thinking that despite the fatigue and always not perfect icing - you are warm, good and calm.

So yeah. For me, Easter is about home. About coziness. About the love in the dough, the powdered sugar, and in the eyes of family.

Happy holidays! 🐥🌸