I've always thought there has been something quite romantic about easter. Perhaps this is the jew in me, romanticizing small children frolicking in a meadow in search of chocolate eggs as we nom on buttered matzoh in envy, but perhaps it's not. Easter is a day marked by pastels and lace and peter pan collars and really good church hats. There's a whole lot of butter cup yellow, rose pink and sky blue. And lets be real, what's not romantic about that?