Signs of Spring
Picky Judy's Picks — Sheila’s open. Could there be a better sign of spring than the Blocks of Fudge sign out on the Chapel Street sidewalk?
I spotted the sign on the way to the post office today and, of course, I stopped in on my way home. The fudge counter was loaded with fudges of every imaginable flavor. Sheila told me she had spent six hours the day before making it so it would be nice and soft… it was. I bought a small batch for starters, chocolate for me and penuche for Ron. After the winter drought, I didn’t want to go overboard. But I’ll be going back within a day or two for more, I’m sure, and I'll branch out from straight chocolate to blends.
Chocolate was a staple in our house when I was a child, even when we were our poorest. My mother grew up in Vienna, Austria upstairs from a chocolate shop. The family myth handed down to us was that our great grandfather had owned a chocolate factory in Poland, but died young and all was lost except our exquisite taste for chocolate. My mother ate at least a chocolate bar a day throughout my childhood up to her last days in her 80’s. If there’s a gene for chocolate, we have it.
So though I appreciate the brassy yellow daffodils and the returning songs of birds, Sheila’s unlocked door says spring to me.