Easter Eggs 2

Behold Easter Sunday's eggs - Lord and Lady Ova in ceremonial robes, made and decorated by His Lordship.
A dashing pair modelled on a younger and more hirsute Lord and Lady Findhorn, they will neither be rolled nor eaten and should live in regal splendour for many years to come.
There was once a lookalike Boy George egg, created by a daughter, who lived for decades in the corner cupboard without emitting any gross signs of a smelly old age.

It seems that eggs are not so much rolled these days; rather there seems to be amongst the chattering classes the Easter Egg hunt, where small chocolate eggs are hidden in the garden or possibly the house if there is no garden.
This seems an expensive sugar overload compared with the good old fashioned hard boiled egg extracted from its broken shell half way up a mountain.

Easter Sunday or not, I was inveigled out of my bed at an unearthly hour this morning, not to roll my Easter Egg but to cycle a circular route in East Lothian. The sun shone but it was exceptionally cold:I think 6 degrees came into the forecast. HL kept telling me what a wonderful day it was and how lucky we were to be fit enough to pedal our way up hill and down dale: I could only think of my chair and the Sunday Papers. Perhaps I'm sickening for something.......old age comes to mind.