Conspicuous consumption

Whenever my mother went downtown to shop at Marshall Field’s she’d stop at the candy counter and pick up some almond bark for my father, some coconut candy for herself and a trio of chocolate-dipped strawberries for me.

Last night I was lying on the couch, moaning about having  a cold, and I saw an ad for which sells — among other things — chocolate-dipped strawberries.  And as it’s almost my birthday, and as I was feeling sick, and also still feeling a little down from the anniversary of Mom’s death on the 1st, I got to feeling awfully nostalgic for dipped berries.  So this afternoon I went over to the website to check out their offerings, and discovered that even something as simple and delicate as a chocolate-dipped strawberry could be turned into an over-blown piece of candy in the same way taffy apples have been ruined by the big production number apples that feed six and are responsible for my screed back in September.

No, don’t worry, I’m not going to bitch about the berries with the same vigor as the apples; I have the lurgy and I don’t feel like it.  All I’m going to say is that the fact that I can’t get simple, chocolate-dipped strawberries makes me kind of sad.  I guess it reminds me of what I’ve lost, and that never makes a bad day better, does it?


One thought on “Conspicuous consumption

  1. You’re better off without chocolate-dipped strawberries in the winter. They’d be pale and tasteless anyway. Wait for the nice bright-red ones of summer. We could have a berry-dipping party!


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