Kiwifruit

Wow. It really has been a long time since I've been here. I've been enjoying my life and I guess I just haven't felt the need to post. However, there are topics I want to explore further that I don't feel are appropriate for or right to post on the goals board, so I think here would be perfect.

Today I ate a kiwifruit for the first time in quite a few years. I had abandoned them, scorning them as too sharp, too biting, perhaps even sour. Bitter. Strange, for I'd liked them up until that point.

Have you ever seen a double-ended kiwifruit knife-spoon? Safe to carry around, safe to take to primary school, and generally a fun, bright colour, they were part of my childhood. I'd cut the top of my kiwi off with the blunt little knife-end, and then sit happily scooping out the flesh. Bright green flesh with a pale centre and little black seeds. It has the most amazing look to it.

So today, for the first time in years, I ate one again. Even the centre, even the seeds. Today I was lacking a knife-spoon, those little plastic things which never even had a nickname. Or maybe they did, and I just can't remember. But today I didn't have one. I sliced the skin off in a spiral, like my mum does, although nowhere near as efficiently as she can. Sadly, I lost quite a lot of the flesh in misplaced cuts, leaving it still stuck to the skin. Supposedly you can eat the skin, but it's all furry, and I couldn't imagine putting it in my mouth.

I cut it up into fork-sized chunks, and ate the whole thing (although it *was* little) in about thirty seconds flat. It was sweet and just the tiniest bit sharp, and it was beautiful.

And I'd only brought one with me: 'to try'. I could have eaten half a dozen more.

Wolverine.