Sorry to bore you with some domestics. Today was our monthly-ish trip to Iceland, stocking up on frozen pizzas, veggies etc, and instant wolf it up stuff for when the kids are hungry and we’re busy.
What I wanted to write about is the sight that met me as I strolled through the door — Easter eggs, loads of them stacked high as you walk in. And row upon row of them, up and down each aisle. Why?
So, lovers of great chocolate, tighten the rein on those who might be buying you such. Whisper things like ‘Belgian’ and ‘dark’ and guessing long enough to get the fresh stuff.