...and as my doppelganger mentioned, I picked up a little chocolate on the road.
Hersheys, Schmerseys. The real nexus of the chocolate universe is Lititz, Pennsylvania, home of the Wilbur Chocolate Factory and museum.
If you've ever wondered what a ten-pound bar of milk chocolate looks like, it looks something like this. I have been asked how I can keep it in the house without eating the whole thing; believe me when I say that a little goes a long way. Besides, if we eat the whole thing, then there will be none left for milk chocolate biscotti, or for milk chocolate/almond/date cake, or for almond bark, made with almonds so fresh that it feels like a gift to snap them between your teeth.
Once again, Hershey's only wishes. There is only one kiss-shaped candy for me -- well, two if you count milk chocolate and semisweet chocolate as two different candies -- and that would be the mighty Wilbur Bud, bought in quantity so that I might spread the gospel among my fellow candyfreaks who have not made the journey to Lititz with me.
Dear friends, I am home, with a laurel and hearty handshake for Snow, Tvindy and mercuryfern, who kept everything feisty while I was gone. (Confidential to Snow: Of course you may ravage Lloyd, just so long as you keep in mind that the film rights are not negotiable.) I am glad to be home in the peachy glow of Lloyd's presence, but I can't deny that this trip back to New York was a little tougher than previous trips back, and I am feeling a bit quiet on the inside. Give it a little time, though, and I'm sure it will pass. 