My Scrooge McDuck moment.

The picture with this post this evening is a stock photo from the magical land of the internet.
Evidently a place where you can find anything you want.
Unlike, it seems, our supermarket.
Now I know we’re lucky to have one at all. We don’t need to hunt rats at the dump to survive, theres no wars raging outside my door etc etc, however today I am rather despondent at the lack of our Christmas staple.
Pascals Columbines.
To me and my family, columbines and Christmas are one.
Like the leg ham and mango, columbines are a delicacy reserved for Christmas.
Their shiny blue and pink wrappers, a symbol of all that is festive and wonderful.
My grandma would display them, on what I assume were, cup cake towers.
There would be other gross Lollys and possibly some of those horrendous holiday themed dried nut/lentil/rice things (shudder), but columbines were pride of place!
Thanks to my mother and her fanciful ways, we were shown how to make the empty wrappers into pretty, teeny, champagne glasses, which we would then drink all our drinks out of.
It was always fun.
And she has shown all her grandchildren this “trick”.
Every time I have one, I do this, and I would show you a picture now, however, it seems others are more in need of Columbines than my family this festive season.
Sniff, sniff.
We head off in the morning, and as much as I dread the thought, I may have to make a trip into town to check the closest shop, with all the other last minute, manic shoppers.
It just feels, well, like there’s something missing.
Can’t have Christmas without columbine champagne glasses. Or ham. Or mango.Or chocolate covered peanuts, which they may or not have also sold out of.
I couldn’t find them but was having major shoppers remorse over the stash in my trolley, so gave up the search quite quickly.
When the lady rang up the total I wanted to cry. Lucky Christmas only comes once a year!



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