Tulip Blue Diamond

There is a shop in the harbour that sells fudge, particularly excellent fudge.  I may have partaken on the odd occasion.  They concoct this ambrosial sweetmeat in front of your drooling lips, large copper vats are stirred over an open flame emitting devilish aromas which drift into the street, enticing the hardest hearts down into their lair.  For those not wooed by scent, behind a picture window you can watch as they work the sugary goo on a marble slab, tempting more prey into the web from which you can never escape, at least without a bag of clotted cream flavoured or perhaps, for those with their fingers on the pulse, chilli and kale.

Yesterday we stood and watched for a while, joining a young lad and an older lady who I imagined was his grandmother.”Hello” I said to the boy “what is going on in there?” ”  Without turning her face in my direction the lady said “You mustn’t talk to strangers” and yanked him away.

This has stayed with me.  It made me frown.  I really don’t need any more wrinkles.

I was offended, possibly wrongly so.  She meant the best for the child.  But I worry for us, for our culture, to live in a world where it is wrong to speak to people that we don’t yet know.  Young, old, middling, our lives are enhanced by others.   The ones that we happen by, those that are foist upon us or that we seek out.

We have a family joke, between myself and my mum anyway.  When getting on public transport we say “Make sure you don’t speak to any strangers”. Then we laugh as we know it is inevitable, mandatory, to make new friends, to learn about others and perhaps become better people for it.

And not to frown.


22 thoughts on “Fudge

  1. Oh my goodness. Just as my anticipation grew toward that sugary goodness, the grandmother ruined the entire feeling. I suppose many people live in fear of a single hello, and teach their young to feel the same, but what a shame. You and your mother use humor to soften the blow.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The Kale Fudge was for Grandma. Personally, I talk to almost everyone, unless they are giving the Kale Grandma vibe. After a day slaving in my garden I had a difficult time talking myself out of a brownie!


  3. How sad. Food for thought. I smiled at a child in a pushchair the other day. The baby had an I pad attached to the front of the bar where the legs go, if you know what I mean. Didn’t know you could buy such contraptions. Mum – who was on her phone- glared at me. Heart sank for a few minutes. I didn’t know how to respond. Felt cross, indignant, sad, worried. What a world we are creating. Used to feel proud when people said how lovely my girls were.


  4. It’s the same here, but I don’t think it was any better 50 years ago. I remember the street art from that time, not art like painting, but young people doing eccentric things in downtown Vancouver, trying to engage strangers in their tomfoolery. Holding out a large shopping bag with some dollar bills in the bottom and urging passersby to reach in and take some. Many people would rush right by, pretending not to see. It’s true parents today are more protective of their children, though.


  5. These days I don’t talk to anyone who hasn’t reached puberty, unless I know them, for fear of being accused of grooming them. And I don’t talk to unknown post-pubescents for fear of inciting a riot by offending some PC mantra. But on a happier note, that’s a beautifully stunning photo. Evening perchance?


    1. Morning actually. It was taken with my posh Canon. These tulips are in a pot in our garden, Blue Diamond. I don’t usually take my posh camera to work, only when I go garden visiting and can be bothered to carry it!


  6. My mother could start a conversation with a lamppost, and we were all brought up to extend friendliness to other folk. How sad, it could have been an opportunity for the grandmother to explain how it might be OK to respond to a stranger while there was a family adult around, as my mother did. It is so important for children to be socialised from an early age, but in the right way. As for the fudge, Mr TT, black spaniel and I did the Heddon Valley and coastal path walk on Friday and a packet of National Trust clotted cream fudge ended the day in a most tasty and satisfactory way.


    1. Quite right. As I am a very nosy person, I find it very difficult not to ask questions. This has been the same since I was a small child. Your walk sounds lovely, I love that area and you definitely needed some fudge as reward. Did you drop in at the Hunters?


      1. Oh yes, it was where the walk seemed to naturally end so a pint of beer for Mr TT and a pot of tea for me, then the fudge!!

        Liked by 1 person

  7. We were also walking a bit of the coastal path on Friday, but up near Clovelly – minus the fudge unfortunately – where the occasional chat with fellow walkers (very occasional, where were they all ? ) added to the enjoyment of the walk. It’s rather sad that Grandmother kale had such poor communication skills that she and the young lad missed out on the joys of conversation.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. The older I get the more I speak to random folk..take today..I bought a jumper in H and M..lady in front to me was buying cushion covers in a lovely print. I went up to her and told her I had bought that same print in a tablecloth and made a jacket out of it. She told me she was making something else out of said cushion covers …and we had a little chat. Might have made her day …it certainly cheered me up ….random stranger in like minds. Enough said… x

    Liked by 1 person

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