Candy Apples and the Lost Treats of Halloween

Summary

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I PUSHED my carriage down the fruit and vegetable aisle of the supermarket the other day, and I was about to reach for a packet of grapes when I saw, sitting on the back ledge of the fruit bin, candy apples individually wrapped in clear, hard plastic. Same wood sticks, as I remembered. The same blood-red coating. The same flat base where the candy settled before hardening. I wanted a candy apple.

That evening after dinner, after reading the paper, taking out the dog, and settling on the couch to continue reading a biography of Robert Frost, I remembered my candy apple waiting for me on the kitchen counter.

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Extract

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Candy Apples and the Lost Treats of Halloween

One of the many advantages of being over 50 is that you can pretend to be 10 years old, and really remember what it felt like to be 10. You cannot be 10 and pretend to be 50, for you have no idea ...

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