In the words of Albert Arkwright, it's been a funny old day.
Everyone at work seems to have been particularly blah today, and having scanned some of my favourite daily blogs and cast my eye over Facebook, it seems that we haven't been the only ones.
Perhaps it's the time of year. I am not a morning person at the best of times, but when the alarm goes off before it's even light, I feel cheated, somehow, by my night's sleep. And whilst I like those nice sharp, biting crisp mornings, when I can pull on woolens and boots, this morning was a sea of drizzle. I loath drizzle. It gets no-where, yet everywhere. It seems, today, to have penetrated everyone's mood.
In the midst of this gloom, however, I have discovered a chink of light which I will share with you.
I am a jelly sweet fiend. I would wrestle a small child to the ground for their last cola bottle. I dream of reclining in a bath of Haribo. I can demolish a bag of Strawbs in ten minutes flat (albeit with a slight sense of nausea towards the end).
The creme de la creme of the jelly sweet world is, of course, the Marks and Spencer Percy Pig. With their cunning combination of cloudy snout and clear ears, and that slightly fragrant flavour (what IS that flavour) they are mouthfuls of perfection. And the irony that they are made with pork gelatin is not lost on me. I have just discovered the Mr Pig has a Facebook page of his own, and this is his profile picture. You can see, I hope, that in confectionery terms, he is, quite simply, the best.
Or so I thought ...
There was a shopping error last week. I rushed. I didn't want to be grocery shopping, I wanted to be at home, grocery eating. In the queue at the tills, I found myself in the sweetie trap, put there to mock the weak (me) and decided that I deserved a Piggy treat.
Only when I got home and pulled said Pigs from my shopping bag did I realise my mistake! These were incomplete, unwhole, pigless Pigs. These were ... **shock horror** ... Phizzy Pig Tails!
I know. I was shocked too.
But here's the thing. Last night, having recovered from the initial sadness, I sought out my (slightly macabre) bag of tails. And I opened them. And I took a tail out. And I sniffed it in a trepidatious manner. And I took a bite. And it was ... amazing! These tails are like no other jelly known to man. They have all the quality of Percy, with an added fizzy (phizzy) tanginess. Tails are the new heads. Phizz is the new phizzless. Bottom is the new top.
And this intel, my friends, is my gift to you.
Conversations with a self
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