It tastes like a spiral ham and jellybeans, and sounds like the rustling of spruce boughs.
Despite my enthusiasm for egg hunts, I'm not really what you'd call an expert. That's more my sister's territory. She is the recognized queen of Easter at our traditional family gathering. For as long as I can remember, she has been climbing up trees and into large shrubs to retrieve as many eggs as could fit in her bag, generally until it bursts. My approach was always of a different nature. As a child, I would search for eggs just like every other kid, but my pattern of find-open-eat-discard-find-open-eat-discard left me with a strangely smaller bounty than my friends. And a serious sugar rush.
Challenging eggs just aren't my style.
I look for weak and wounded eggs - those that get separated from the herd. Here I am, pawing at the rhododendron for some snacks.
If you massage the branches just right, the eggs fall right to the bottom,
which is where C is waiting to snatch them up. We're the scavenger Dream Team of the egg world.
There were some small children hunting alongside us. These pink eggs were strategically placed for the youngest of our group.
By the end, I was taking hers too.
There was one very interesting surprise found in the heat of our adventure. No one knew where it came from, but we all immediately understood that this was a special egg.
No one stuffs a black easter egg with melted candy corn.
Most importantly though, who started having Halloween egg hunts and didn't tell me??!!
This next egg appeared to be from our 1995 hunt.
Check out that creamy candy center. Just think of this sweet morsel melting in your mouth.
Ugh.
Luckily, our easter victory this year was sweet and worm-free.
Another egg hunt success down in the books.
Tomorrow, we'll talk Peeps, because ours put on quite a good show.
You know you can't wait.
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