Easter Egg Hunt

Hidden in this post is an Easter Egg. Easter it is, of course; and so the egg’s theme is appropriate for this day.

It’s not the most cleverly designed puzzle. Since this is Easter, I’m trying not to do any real work.

Naturally, readers should remember that I used to be—in another life, long ago—a cryptographer. Once, that is, a creator of (electronic) codes; not a breaker of them. Too tough a clue?

Here’s a hint: this is a pre-math code. Extremely easy, actually. Really, it’s the kind that, when you see it, you’ll smack your head for not seeing it sooner. Each person who thinks he has found the code should post the result and the method used to find it.

First things first is your best clue. Order is important. Respect the spacing!

Have no fear. Elbow grease, mentally applied, will see you through.

I think that’s enough clues. So let’s talk about something else.

Rather, one more. It’s not the picture of the egg. See it up there? Easter egg it is. Not our egg, obviously: because it’s not hidden!

All right then. Switch topics.

Holidays like this have always been my favorite. Easter, I mean.

Sense memories—mine, of course—are strong for Easter, especially revolving around breakfast. All the women would gather in the kitchen the night before an bake quiches. I recall vividly watching them cool on the counter. Don’t know why they picked quiche, but I was never that big a fan because of the strongly flavored cheese.

Come morning, we weren’t allowed to eat first. Off we would go to church. Man, was I starving by the end of the service. Easter sermons were always interminably long.

So once we got home, we would be off on the hunt for the Easter baskets. Each was full of candy, of course, and by the time I finished gorging, it’s no wonder I didn’t enjoy the quiche. Especially delicious were the malted milk balls.

There’s still a soft place in my heart—and on my palate—for those malted chocolates. Have a bowl full? Eat them all, I will, and come back for more.

Pews in my grandparent’s church had hooks on the back where men could clip their hats. Lots of men still wore them when I was a boy (why I’m remembering this, I don’t know). All have bare heads now. Could be that too many worry about their hair. Except that these men don’t understand that a hat provides balance.

Where was I? Here I am going on about hats, and I have forgotten the main topic. Easy enough to do when discussing a topic as important as hats. Really, I should shut up about it. Easy to say; not so easy to do.

The main topic? Holidays: Holy Days, that is. Easter in particular.

Let today be a day of hope and happiness for you. Of course, for some of us, that joy and happiness seems far off. Remember hope, then. Don’t forget that hope, and its brother faith, can work miracles.

Lastly, lots of luck on solving the puzzle. All should be able to do it. Yes, it’s not that difficult.