Signs of spring. Signs of rain. Signs are everywhere if we look. Doug and I pray for signs. Nice big, clear, fall out of the sky, and hit us on the head signs of what to do. We need it spelled out for us.
When I was ready to move to Santa Fe when Doug had his nervous breakdown three and half years ago we travelled there to find a house and see about moving. Prayed for a sign. No one, and I mean no one, called us back. No one called us back about rentals, there was a waiting list for herbalists to get into the farmer’s markets down there, and there was already a dance company in all the schools!
Doug went to summer camp in Elbert county for many years and has always liked it around here. How about I look in Elizabeth? Not quite New Mexico, but I would give it a shot if It was what my husband wanted to do. I prayed that if a house was meant to be that I could come right out and tell the landlord that I have nine, count ’em, nine indoor cats. She didn’t even flinch. We moved to Elizabeth.
Eight farmer’s markets a week later and rather exhausted and not sure how we were going to survive the winter a shop comes available. The night before we were to move in the landlord decided that we could not have the shop after all as her insurance agent told her not to trust us because we are secretly (even to us) pot dealers. He has never met us in his life. We were so devastated. The next week the shop next to it came available. It was never even posted for rent. The owner’s daughter had seen us at farmer’s markets and liked us and we were offered the most ridiculously low rent. The tenant moving out bartered his beautiful display cases for medicine. We were in business. (The shop next door is perpetually empty as the front door does not face the street. It is also a third of the size of our present shop!)
At the end of a long season of farmer’s markets last year, not making too much, we prayed for a sign to tell us if we should quit the markets for the season. The back of the truck opened up on the way home and everything dumped out on the highway! I pointed to heaven and said, “Got it!” Not a single thing was broken.
I prayed that if the dance company was going to be too much and if I shouldn’t do it to not let the phone even ring once. I sent out a hundred and fifty fliers in the school folders here. Not a single phone call. Not even from previous students. Now that’s a sign!
Doug says that when we pray for a sign we get hit with a sack of nickles. We need clear, precise instructions. So when I prayed for a clearer sign on the homestead, I got a phone call. Peter was surprised himself that his wife was entertaining an offer on the land. Someone came out of the blue and offered to buy it.
I understand doors closing. I understand not meant to be. I do not understand tease. Why would it even be dangled in front of us then swiftly out of our grasp? I feel like a cat right now being toyed with! Doug and I talked about it last night and we can only guess that it is going to trigger another event. A trickle down effect. If this hadn’t happened, this couldn’t have happened, etc. We will look back and see the path clearly marked but for now we wait…again.
On a lighter note, this is the sign of a perfect egg, if it drops to the bottom of a glass of water it is perfect. If it floats ever so slightly, eat it sooner, if it floats, pitch it.
The perfect high altitude boiled egg: Place eggs in a saucepan and cover with an inch or two of cold water. Bring to boil. Once it starts boiling, time it for fifteen minutes. Remove from heat. With a slotted spoon transfer eggs to a bowl and place in refrigerator.
When it comes to farm eggs, white eggs peel easier and make the better boiled eggs. Which is great because it is almost Easter and we have been harboring Ethel’s eggs for weeks to color! I have heard many different ways to make an egg peel easier. Keep in water, peel while hot, use older eggs, but I have found that Ethel’s eggs peel perfectly every time.
I was going to hard boil the eggs using a can of beets and a touch of olive oil. I suspected that this would create a lovely, naturally colored, marbled, pink egg. But alas, the kids were horrified that I would color the eggs without them. So they are being saved for Easter.
However you celebrate, may your Easter eggs be bright and beautiful, the day be bright and beautiful, and the day be blessed with great food and joyous friends. Happy Easter!