Land of the Boiled Sweet

After years spent in exile with only the occasional slice of

Tarte au Citron or a couple or three small squares of

artisanal dark chocolate to satisfy the cravings of my sweet

tooth (or should that be dentures), I am now back in

the land of the boiled sweet and I AM IN HEAVEN!

 

 

 

My darling Acle, next the marsh near the sea, boasts not one

but two fine emporiums almost solely dedicated to the

desires of lifelong sweetie addicts like myself.

Well, when there's no sex, drugs or rock 'n roll

going down a girl has to take her pleasures where she can.

 

 

 

Candy Corner is no more than a five minute ride by turbo-charged

zimmer from the lock-up and the Post Office Stores offers

oodles of off road parking for both dogs and mobility scooters alike.

 

Their shelves are packed to bursting with sherbert lemons,

aniseed balls, winter warmers, cough candy twist,

cola cubes and Tom Thumb mix

(you could eat these is class without anyone ever knowing

although they did dye your tongue a wonderful shade of green

if you OD'd out of boredom in double Latin on a Friday afternoon).

 

 

 

My suck of preference is the pineapple cube although if you

scrunch too vigorously it's very easy to lacerate the

insides of your cheeks.  But, for the most part, I'm prepared

to risk minor injury in order to get my daily fix.

Don't leave them in the sun, they'll go all sticky.

 

However I spotted a new line in barley sugar walking sticks

being delivered yesterday and am seriously considering switching

brand even though they do taper to a dangerous point if

held in the mouth for too long.

Certainly not one for the fainthearted or, indeed, clumsy!

 

Fly you buggers!

 

And as for Christmas, I've already put in my order to avoid

any possible disappointment - six giant gobstoppers,

300g flying saucers and plenty of "bah humbugs",

 

Life is sweet(ie)!