My soul it doth rejoice again .....

..... because I have just set foot in a Sainsbury's Supermarket

for the first time in many a long year and I was certainly not disappointed.

Any time, any place, anywhere - except France!

Something almost akin to religious ecstasy

swept my weakened old body as I darted weasel-like from aisle to aisle in
transports of immense delight.
 

I did, however, finally decide to rein in my rapture when I became aware that

no only were other shoppers beginning to give me funny looks
but that the responsible adult accompanying me was also
starting to look slightly embarrassed by my loud cries of "Oh just
look at this" and "Can we have some of these for supper tonight?"

Fine example of an early English long-trolley.

After almost fourteen years of fresh baked croissants,
delicate patisserie, desserts created for the angels
and things made from chocolate that are the stuff of dreams
you cannot imagine the ripple of nostalgia which touched
my very core at that first heady glimpse of a pair of nesting Scotch eggs!

A rare glimpse of these shy little creatures from north of the border.

This was soon surpassed by a gaggle of Melton Mowbray pork pies
and completely eclipsed by a microwavable family of
spotted dicks.  To all my American readers who might feel
dubious about the thought of putting such an ill-named object in their mouths
- trust me, they're awesome, particularly when swallowed whole with custard.

Don't make a noise, they may still be sleeping.

And it didn't stop there, at every turn a childhood favourite,
comfort food of the gods and treats to tempt even the most jaded of
appetites - Ginster's Cornish pasties, jam roly poly,
heat 'n eat individual liver and onions with mash, Cumberland
sausage, farmhouse cheddar, Cheshire with apricots,
Bovril, chocolate spread and punnets of fresh cress.
Even a brace or two of early hot-cross buns starting their
courtship rituals before the noisy arrival of migratory Easter
eggs and clarty chocolate bunnies from as far afield as
China or the melting pots of the exotic east.

Batallions of Chinese chocolate rabbits preparing for their Easter migration.

Hold these thoughts while I shimmy off for
a little quiet meditation in the pantry and, if no one spots me. maybe even an
illicit spoonful or three of the rhubarb crumble we're supposed to
be saving for supper.

Anyone fancy a bit of a roll?

Bon appetite mes amies - catch you later!