Why does Easter remind me of eggs . . .?

A tradition for many families is an abundance of hardboiled eggs on hand for days after Easter. It sounds great to boil up a bunch for decorating and hiding on Easter but you do end up with a lot that got left in favor of the jelly beans. What to do?

Stuffed Eggs can be made from ingredients probably already in your refrigerator. What you put into the recipe depends on what you want to taste when you are done! First I take my boiled, cooled and peeled eggs and slice them lengthwise in half. The yolks will pop out fairly easily. I mash them in a bowl, adding a spoonful or two of mayonnaise, bit of mustard, salt, pepper, and sweet or dill relish. Once thoroughly combined, I mound the yolk mixture back into the egg whites. This usually goes well but if the whites tend to crack or fall apart, this is your cue to chop them up, add to the yolks and . . . serve egg salad!

Several days after Easter, the goodies were dwindling. My daughter, Julianna, desperately wanted a hard-boiled egg. I told her there was one left in the refrigerator although it was a bit smashed. She took one look at the lone egg and slammed the door saying, “I’m definitely not going to eat an egg that is hatching!”

Eggs are also a budget saver and can be stretched to meet meal needs in many ways. Eggs can begin your day, be a boiled one in your lunch or become dinner. When the paycheck is slow in reaching the checking account, you can always depend on eggs to stretch the week out just a bit more. Sometimes it is fun to have breakfast for dinner. If you want to be cheap and elegant, an omelet is called for here. The basic recipe for an omelet is three or four beaten eggs mixed with a splash of milk and poured into a hot pan with a pat of melted butter or margarine. Turn the temperature low and cook slowly. Before the middle of the omelet has a chance to set, grate some cheese over it, add some salsa, crumbled bacon or cooked sausage. Just before serving, try folding it in half. Don’t worry about tears. The taste is what matters here. Again, these are ideas. Let them percolate and allow your imagination take over. Meanwhile, do something about all those hardboiled Easter eggs!

Growing up is hard to do . . .

I have to wonder, now, at my eagerness to see my babies start to walk, talk, read, etc. In my excitement with watching my childrens' milestones reached, I forgot that growing up was hard to do . . . for me!

I never thought I could cope with them spending a week at camp . . . and I did. When they were going to the local college all day, I learned to manage. Now, three of them are in different parts of the world and I have to understand. This growing up stuff is bothering me more than them. Go figure!

One daughter opted to stay over at college during the recent break. The other one came home but wants to go back sooner to get ready for the week. I want to relive the toddler days and hug them as babies a few more times and relish the moments more than I did!

You worry about them dealing with the world and forget that, as a mother, you have to deal with them doing it on their own.

Looking for Jesus . . .

Several years ago, we were very active in our former parish. One evening, after Holy Saturday services, we were helping get the church and altar ready for the next morning, Easter Sunday. Since the church has the tradition of covering the statues during Lent, we now had to remove the coverings. One statues of Christ had outstretched arms which were removeable to facilitate the covering of it. It is already after eleven and we cannot find the carefully put away arms! The pastor is trying to contact the person who put them away and is sitting there still dresses in his vestments dialing numbers. We are crawling into closets and peering under beds. No arms! Finally, we get one of the smaller altar boys to crawl further under a bed and discover the arms. They had somehow been pushed way under the bed and just out of reach. We got home way after midnight but Jesus has his arms in place in time for Easter Sunday.

A friend who still attends this parish called me yesterday. One of her sons had attended the Holy Saturday Mass and was pulled into service for getting the altar ready for the next day. My friend was getting a bit worried as the hour was growing late and her son wasn't home yet. She finally went to bed but like any mother one eye and ear were open, listening for her son's arrival home. She heard his car pull into the driveway and anticipated his coming in the door. She waited. It didn't happen. After a few more minutes, she got up and went outside to his car to find him fast asleep behind the wheel. She knocked at the car window, woke him, and got him into the house. It seems things had not gone smoothly with the altar preparations . . . they couldn't find Jesus' arms!

The situation was almost compounded when her son was told to check the bedroom (there are three!) and he was caught just before barging into one where the visiting priest was sleeping. This priest is well-known for his temper!

She had to call and tell me that her son now shares our experience and we just couldn't stop laughing about repeated history and when will they learn to leave a note as to where Jesus' arms reside during Lent! I had to wonder what would have happened if her son HAD accessed the sleeping priest's room with the excuse, "I'm looking for Jesus' arms . . ."

Second-hand shared thoughts . . .!

" There is no nonsense so gross that society will not, at some time, make a doctrine of it and defend it with every weapon of communal stupidity."
-- Robertson Davies

"The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost wholly on whether you are at the right or wrong end of the gun."
-- P. G. Wodehouse

"What a blessing it would be if we could open and shut our ears as easily as we open and shut our eyes!"
-- Georg Christoph Lichtenberg