When life hands you lemons: the corollary.

When life hands you hard-boiled eggs, make pickled eggs!

Face it, there's only so much egg salad you can consume in the days after Easter, so why not make the holiday seem to last forever and ever? (Amen!)

Yes, fellow barflys, I really am talking pickled eggs, just like the ones that sit in that big glass jar behind the bar. Sure, you can have a pig's foot, too, if you want. But today we're talking about pickling all those eggs that the kids hauled in from the lawn yesterday. (Let's hope you didn't put down that Scott's Step 1 too soon this year; that's tough with the late holiday.)

But, I digress.

You can find tons of variations to the recipe on Al Gore's world wide web, but the best two are the basic, old-fashioned remedy, as well as the one with hot peppers. (Try to avoid the ones with the beets or the Vienna sausages. Otherwise, your teeth turn purple. And those little wienies pale in comparison to a Slim Jim.)

While we're at it. Did someone finally pull the plug on that stupid notion of hanging plastic eggs from a tree in the yard? Sure hope so. This year I did not see a single such dippy display.

And another thing. Easter candy is a chocolate rabbit, hollow or otherwise. Okay, it might be a Peep or two, but it is NOT just another bag of year-round chocolate with a holiday wrapping. Take note of that Hershey and M&M. Every holiday is entitled to its own candy, not just some color change in coating or wrapper.

So, while you're sitting around waiting for your eggs to pickle, you might want to pop another beer and work on your self-pickling. Takes one to know one, they say. Hoist a $2 pint somewhere to the Boston teams that made the weekend worth forgetting that Tom Brady wears Uggs. (Ugh!) And then have another for the Sixers' win over the Heat.

Last one in's a rotten . . . No, make that a pickled egg!