>This afternoon, Husband and I joined some lovely friends from my writing program for Easter brunch at another friend's apartment in New Jersey. Everything was delicious, and of course, I ate too much. In particular, I loved the biscuits that one woman made.

"Hey Sara, how'd you get your biscuits to be so sweet?" I asked her, then laughed maniacally in my head because, thanks to my granny, I can't say the word biscuit with a straight face. Granny's euphemism for the vaginal area was butter biscuit. So, for example, when I was a wee lass and went to the bathroom, she'd ask me if I wiped my butter biscuit before I got off the toilet. Oy. (For the record, the brunch biscuits were made with honey butter. Mmmmm...)

We departed from the brunch festivities a bit early to go to Ikea. Our living room has been deprived of a couch since Tuesday, which is the only night residents in our building are allowed to dispose of furniture. For $150, Husband and I picked up a cute little couch that flips out into a bed for overnight guests. We had to fight the crowds of Southeast Asians, Asians, and Hasidic Jews to check out. (I swear I saw my super a few check out lanes over, but that's another story.) Now I know who shops at Ikea on Easter Sunday.

Sofa safely tucked into the hatchback of Fred the Red, our PT Cruiser, Husband and I headed back home from Jersey via the Lincoln Tunnel. As we passed under a bridge, I saw one of my favorite signs: "Welcome to North New Jersey, Embroidery Capital of the World Since 1872." Something to brag about, indeed.

Hope that everyone is having a Happy Resurrection Day!

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