And so it came to pass that two dozen eggs (just a tad more each year to accommodate the growing interest of little boys) were boiled, dyed, and turned into the egg of little boys' imaginings: speckled eggs, colorful eggs, camouflage eggs, and anything in between. All of this for that great Easter Egg Hunt.
This was, of course, foreign to me. My parents would not have thought of buying and boiling 24 eggs just to have them painted and, in our provincial minds, played with by their little children. That was just unheard of and wasteful. And our hens would not be happy either. They would have fought with all the might of their sharp claws and loud clucking before they parted with the eggs that they were sitting on. But had we know about Easter Egg hunts, the story might have played out differently. You see, when I was a child, we celebrated Easter differently. Or should we say, we did not celebrate Easter apart from participating in the religious ceremonies.
Anyway, our children had a lot of fun, as usual, painting the eggs, as you can see. :-) That was one of the highlights of their Easter watch.
Come Easter Sunday, right after we arrived from Mass, my husband spray painted the yard to delineate the hard-mode egg hunt (in this area, all of the camouflage eggs went) and easy and medium mode hunt (this is the place where the colorful eggs and the green eggs were placed, respectively).
When the hoopla was done, we found ourselves with more than a dozen of eggs lurking in the cold recesses of our refrigerator. I quake at the thought of having a hard boiled egg for meals. It is not one of my favorites. And I think that the children are a little tired of having boiled eggs after they had their fair share of them during Lent.
What should I do with them, apart from taking more pictures of them?
I will ask my husband. He has all the answers. ;-)
Even without my asking, my Betterhalf already addressed my issue. He used some of the eggs to make Deviled Eggs which he served for dinner. We only have five more left in the fridge. If I am bribed nicely, I may have some of it.
Finally, I can think again. Lent was not a good time for blogging, at least for me. I felt a little guilty that I was spending too much time thinking about the things that I would write about. There I was busy thinking about the things I wanted to write when I was away from the computer and spending time in front of the computer when I got the chance instead of thinking about matters pertaining to soul and eternity. In blogging as in life, it was difficult to have such internal conflict. Trying to attend to both matters kept me from focusing on and doing well on either. Eventually, the conflict was resolved in favor of the weightier matters. I stopped blogging for a full week. That did not necessarily make me any better or holier or more focused though. Remove one distraction, and ten thousand others would take the place of the one that was put away. That was how it was with me.
Yet somehow, I, and the rest of the family, managed to assist at the Holy Week celebrations even when we had to travel far to do so. For this, I give credit to my Betterhalf who fixed his schedule in such a way that we could go and attend the Holy Thursday Mass and Good Friday Liturgy. How nice is it to have a husband who prioritizes religious matters. I am blessed and thankful.
It was a good time for our family. It was especially a good time for the children who are becoming more conscious of their faith and are learning to live accordingly. They did work hard during Lent. They made little sacrifices that were suitable to their age.
Peace of soul comes to those with the right kind of anxiety about attaining perfect happiness, which is God. A soul has anxiety because it final and eternal state is not yet decided, it is still and always at the crossroads of life. This fundamental anxiety cannot be cured by a surrender to passions and instincts; the basic cause of our anxiety is a restlessness within time that comes because we are made for eternity.
If there were anywhere on earth a resting place other than God, we may be very sure that the human soul in its long history would have found it before this. ~ Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen