A year without Easter

Easter at our house has always been a bit of a conundrum. Our marriage consists of a practising Anglican son-of-an-archdeacon (the only man who could evah reach me) and a theistic life-long Unitarian (believe me, we're rare birds indeed). Elder daughter teaches Anglican Sunday School (for the volunteer hours requirement for high school graduation) and attends Anglican youth group (for the social aspect and the promise of a trip to Scotland next year). She decided she was agnostic two years ago. Younger daughter loves church, presumably for the music and comforting predictability. Easter, with the emphasis on horrible death and glorious rebirth, has never been an easy holiday, but taking place in spring, one can emphasize the latter idea.
Not this year. This is what Easter looks like in Ottawa:

That's a lamp-post, people.
I've baked the hot cross buns, had younger daughter colour eggs, and consumed a rather disturbing chocolate koala bear with staring eyes that popped out, leaving gaping brown sockets. (Purdy's, our favourite BC-based chocolatier, let the Resident Fan Boy down. We presume we will take delivery of the best chocolate in the world later this week.) I've yet to drag out my favourite Easter flicks Jesus de Montreal and The Life of Brian, but it doesn't feel much like Easter, and this is rather ironic because I've always shaken my head at Ottawans and their seasonal-driven ways: the fact they wear wool in October even in a 28 humidex because it's autumn, dammit; their insistence on wearing open-toed shoes and even sandals in late March even in ice and slush because it's spring, dammit.  The RFB took younger daughter to church yesterday and spent the freezing service in his winter coat, looking in bemusement at his fellow-parishioners clad in light-weight pastels. It's Easter, dammit.

BBC Canada seems equally at a loss. Their Good Friday programming consisted of the two-hour 2006 Vicar of Dibley Christmas special, followed by 3 episodes of Jam and Jerusalem. It took me a while to figure out that they'd decided "Heck, here's two comedies connected to churches: let's put it on at Easter."

I adapted to Christmases without snow; my family moved to Vancouver Island when I was nine, but Christmas tends to overcome things. Easter, by its very nature, should, but it doesn't. Not for me. Not this year.