Hard-Boiled Eggs Again

Easter informally signals spring. It is a holiday that embraces new life not only in a spiritual sense, but with outward physical signs as well, things that can be seen and touched. We can feel green grass under our feet; see tulips and daffodils pushing up through the moist earth. It is exciting to buy new clothes, something bright and cheerful, even though it is normally too cold to shed our warm coats. Little baby bunnies with twitchy noses and fuzzy yellow chicks are symbols of the newness of life that have come to be associated with spring and Easter.

But perhaps even more universally celebrated is the egg. I ate too many big sugar eggs with some sort of marshmallow-crème centers when I was a hungry little girl once. That particular kind has not been attractive to me since my bad experience. My preferences have turned mostly to chocolate. Crunchy Cadbury Mini Eggs are tops on my list of favorites, although the eggs with a thick chocolate shell, filled with syrupy fluid and a yolky glob floating in the center is a confectionary meal. I would never turn down a malted milk egg, or anything oval shaped made from chocolate, caramel and pecans.

The most common Easter treat however, remains the hard-boiled chicken egg. They have to be decorated, of course, that is part of the ritual. I tried to convince my children that a wire dipper and a cup of homemade dye was the simplest way to make the eggs pretty. They were content with that method for a while, drawing designs with wax crayons and wrapping rubber bands around the eggs to make them striped. Then they discovered wrap an egg, swirl an egg, and splatter an egg. They sponge painted some, applied stickers to others and sprinkled glitter on a few too.

There are so many creative ways to decorate eggs. In order to try them all, we had to boil a lot of them. Although that little cholesterol module is packed with protein and low in calories, peeling colored eggs for lunch gets old in a couple of weeks. Potato salad isn’t very appealing with remnants of blue, purple and green egg whites mixed in. That is why mothers with creative children continue to appreciate fresh ideas for serving hard boiled eggs again.

By Patsy Bronner

A Place to Hang Your Boots

What do you see when you drive down the road? My husband gazes at the fields, wondering aloud from time to time about the productivity and the rocks and the livestock that occupy the fenced-in areas. He takes note of shredded corn leaves that might indicate a recent hailstorm, bean stubble that wasn’t cut short enough or yellow streaks of chemical damage on foliage. It makes me nervous when he farms while driving; it diminishes the skills necessary to operate a motor vehicle.

I confess that I don’t always concentrate solely on driving when I am behind the wheel. But we often see different things. I tire of calculating crop yields from the car window, and begin to search for something different. I’ve noticed artistically stacked rocks and the occasional rock on top of a wooden fencepost. Then I’m led to speculate about the reason for its placement there. Maybe the farmer just wanted it up out of the way. They might be coming back to get it. It might be needed in a rock garden or a stone wall or a pathway. Or perhaps it was put there for admiration on a makeshift pedestal. It might possess rare qualities of color and texture, or have the ability to sparkle in the sun. A stone on top of a post might be the result of a weight lifting competition among the rock-picking crew to see who was the strongest.

There is another thing that I have seen on top of fence posts. Work boots. I noticed several inverted leather shoes on either side of a farm driveway quite some time ago. They appeared to be worn-out high-top lace-up work shoes that farmers commonly wear. There was no billboard indicating any business reason for the collection. No shoe factory was located there nor any advertisement for shoe sales or exchange. The mailbox didn’t hint of any unusual surname such as Sam Shoemaker or Michael Boots. So I was left once again contemplating the intentions of the unique display.

Are they nesting places for birds or shelters for beneficial insects? Maybe they protect the iron posts from sun and rain. The growing number of work boots on the posts there must be a statement. Do they prove how hard the family has worked by how many shoes they have worn holes in? Does the display mean that the farmer wants to give the world a boot, or that we need to keep on walking, moving forward? Could it be a boot endurance testing site to see how long it takes for a leather shoe to deteriorate when exposed to the elements day after day? There is a possibility that it is some kind of artistic _expression. It might be a joke or an invitation to hang your own work boots there. It’s their fence and they can hang old shoes on the top of the posts if they want to. Maybe the intent is simply to perplex inquisitive motorists like me.

By Patsy Bronner