just the black ones

On Wednesday this week I went to the grocery store and hanging high, there it was.

Jube jubes, separated and packaged by colour.

It was practically a miracle.

Not the greens. (Almost) no one wants those. Those you only eat when there is nothing left in the house and you are desperate.

As an aside, I have been looking for years for a man who loves the greens and I have found one, and I must say he has absolutely fabulous taste (ahem) in all things other than this. He completes my jubejube experience.

I turn to the very tall stock boy Could you get me those black ones right there, way up where I can’t reach?

Oh and the reds for me

I am so consumed by my sudden clever idea I tell this complete stranger I am going to my dad’s gravestone today, it is his birthday. He would not care about flowers, but this is the perfect gift

Perhaps he is thinking I am crazy and maybe live with too many cats. I could care less,  I am excited.

Many times I would go with my dad to pick up some jubejubes  and he was always chastising the guy with the scoop into giving him 1 pound for the price of 1/2 a pound – but only the black ones.

They never sold them this way until this year.

I ate my reds. Gave him the blacks. And spoke to him for 25 minutes. I wish I could say he heard me for sure.

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