1:58 a.m. Today we went on a proper hunt for peeps. Little yellow baby chicks, sometimes called cheeps by people not raised properly. The ones I'm looking for are small and yellow, with little > shaped beaks. Not baby ducks -- baby chickens.

And I found quite a few of them, I'm happy to report. Sunny day, many people's doors and windows open and you can follow the Elian story street by street as you glide by in the sunshine.

You used to be able to buy real baby chicks, dyed in fetching colors of blue and pink, for Easter. When I was a kid, we had a chicken coop in our back yard, and so sometimes we ended up with a couple of these little peeping creatures. My sister loved them so much -- so much -- that she actually squeezed one to death by hugging it too hard.

I expected them to lay eggs the color of their dye job, but alas. And since I had to go out there and actually get the eggs, I've been afraid of them ever since. The eggs -- not the chickens. Warm and quivery and stuck gooey in the straw. Don't like the white and I don't have much truck with the yolk, either.

And I can say, with some authority, that grownups should really cool it on the Easter candy. When there's nobody around to supervise you and you can start in on the jellybeans and the peeps before breakfast -- well, when will I learn?

Today I found a peep that you wind up and it walks across the counter and plunges to the floor, as well as one that shimmies when you pull a string. True end-of-the-world stuff. My favorite is a duck-like peep on a spring, in a wishing well, taking a shower. A lovely addition to any collection, and that's my point.

This can be a collection. I need a collection -- a theme. My mother collected roosters until she finally had to cry uncle, but it made gift-buying a snap. Of course, just thinking about her kitchen walls does give me pause. Perhaps caution is needed -- perhaps one can have too many representative barnyard critters.

I guess it's just as well. This chance for the little yellow furry things only comes once a year and most of my collection will be all eaten in another week anyway. Plus, a distressing number of ducks have crept in ...

And with that, I bid you goodnight and good reading.