Debbilled eggs

I don't eat eggs. My mom says that I ate eggs for only one month when I was a toddler, only scrambled, only smothered in ketchup and, after that month, never again. The smell of eggs cooking makes me nauseous (although not as much as the smell of scrapple cooking, now that is stomach-turning), and many things that people don't consider eggy were things I could not bear to eat. Challah, meringue, chili rellenos. I like quiche though, if its done with a sufficient amount of cheese, bacon and onion.

When Arabella took the cardboard egg container on our trip to the yarn store, I didn't think anything was odd, but then she 'pretend' offered me a "debbilled egg." I have never made a devilled egg in my life. Never ever. I've eaten exactly one half of a devilled egg (when I was on the Atkins diet. I thought I should try to eat eggs, since they are an excellent source of protein), and to the best of my knowledge Arabella has had exactly none.

At our last pre-Sabine Easter, Arabella helped me boil a half-dozen eggs. She watched with rat attention while I dyed the eggs. We placed them in the basket for the Easter bunny to hide. On Easter morning she hunted them down. And then Arabella told me she wanted an Easter egg for breakfast. Although I don't eat eggs I have watched this done many times -- I rolled the egg on the table and then peeled the cracked shell off. I sliced the egg. Arabella stared at it, obviously disappointed. "Where's the chocolate?" she said, obviously perplexed. I had to explain that these were the same eggs we cooked and dyed the day before, and they do not get magically transformed by the Easter bunny.

I wonder if debbilled eggs are made of chocolate. I'd certainly eat alot more if they were.

Knitting:

Our trip to the yarn store was in quest of lace weight Malabrigo, a silky soft hand-dyed merino wool, for my summer project: a scarf for Mom. This is the color I found for her: Cognac. The yarn is mostly a pinkish-lavender shading into a greenish-brown. It's prettier in person than any image I saw online, that just looked beige-ish.



And for myself I found the same yarn in a colorway called Loro Baranquero (which I suspect is Spanish for "we ran out of names." It is Dark red, chocolate brown, olive green and warm yellow.



And in the garden, the miniature roses are all blooming madly, and quite lovely. The roses are small, but a warm creamy color. I considered tearing out the mini rose bush when we bought the house, because it was leggy and sad and had no roses on it, but I think being dog-free for a few years has been encouraging it to new heights. That or it's the way I stand next to it every year and suggest I'll dig it up and plant bamboo.