Easter Eggs

Yesterday I took advantage of a quiet Easter afternoon to play croquet with the family, watch a bit of The Masters golf tournament, eat some delicious food, and submit my writing to a plethora of magazines.  I like this word "plethora", and I use it every chance I get.  Makes me sound like a real writer. 

The way I figure it, if Jesus did the hard work of overcoming death, then the least I can do is the hard work of writing 5,000 words . . . sort of like creating a giant Easter egg.

Additionally, I also found myself engaged in some conversations about writing . . . and more specifically with people who had written me on Easter afternoon to ask if I would read a manuscript, or provide the name of an editor, or offer some feedback.  Always happy to help in these ways.

And while I was reading and writing, I ate lots of ham.  Great stuff, ham.  Even inspired me to begin an essay about it.  Still working on the title, but I like "Hamming It Up" or "Ham Strings: Slivers of Thought About Pork". 

My wife usually hates my titles (when I ask her to comment).  She tells me I'm laying an egg.

Yes, but then it is Easter.  And I'm entitled to lay a few. 

I'm might even devil some of them.  Just to be punny.