Brigitte and me in the Fasching parade.

At this time of year, forty days before Easter, the Lent season begins. Supposedly, you will give up meat during this time (carne = meat, val = goodbye) , but it has evolved to include giving up the vice of your choice, usually rich foods or cigarettes, during these forty days. Before the time of restraint begins, the carnival days leading up to Ash Wednesday are an excuse for people to go wild, dress up, and overindulge one last time.

When I was six years old my family left Germany to come to Canada, but earlier in that year, when I was still five, my parents relented to my wheedling and whining and allowed me to take part in the little Mardi Gras parade our very small town hosted. I remember the worry about whether I would be all right and not get lost if they allowed me to dress up and be in the parade. My little brother, being two years younger than me, was not allowed to go. I felt very important to be allowed to be in the parade as long as I promised to hold the hand of my older cousin Brigitte, who was about eleven that year.

Although I’m female, I was dressed as a Dutch Boy in a blue outfit (I preferred wearing pants anyway and it was more practical). Cousin Brigitte was a fly agaric mushroom (red outfit with white dots).

My father took my little brother by the hand and followed along on the sidewalk as Brigitte and I walked in the big parade. To this day I’m thankful that he took pictures along the way. He took this one of my brother and me before the parade.

Notice the snow on the ground. It was, after all, February.

If you’re wondering what’s on our cheeks, this was my mother’s standard way of doing face painting. She took a very red lipstick and drew hearts on our cheeks. It was her way of saying, “I love you.”

So happy Carnival, Fasching, Mardi Gras, or whatever you want to call this time.