As the Easter Season winds down and we put the harbingers of Resurrection away, I must recognize the egg tradition as it plays out here.  This year, our boy chose to dedicate his annual painting of the wooden eggs to his trains and tugs.  Borne of my desire to avoid the smell and potential disaster of eggs and vinegar dyes, the wooden eggs painted by all of us over the past dozen years are scattered throughout the house.  Each year, it brings the renewal of the spirit home for us.