Raisins
I have this memory of seeing my great-grandmother — or someone — put a whole bunch of raisins in a big bowl of water, and of watching as the dried fruit plumped up, and then seeing all these tiny little worms detach from the dimples and crevices in the raisins and rise to the surface — a skin of tiny little worms on top of the water in the bowl. Worms you couldn't see just by looking.
I have no idea if that is a real memory or a dream or a daydream or what. But I've had it for as long as I can remember, and it put me off raisins for a long, long time. And to this day, every time I open up one of those little red boxes and pour myself a handful, I think about those worms.
I have no idea if that is a real memory or a dream or a daydream or what. But I've had it for as long as I can remember, and it put me off raisins for a long, long time. And to this day, every time I open up one of those little red boxes and pour myself a handful, I think about those worms.
Labels: memories
posted by theogeo | 7/26/2007 02:06:00 AM
3 Comments:
Thanks a lot. I used to really like raisins.
Ew. More reason not to like them. A year ago, a coworker told me that when he lived in central California and worked odd jobs, he witnessed workers taking bathroom breaks where the grapes were set out to dry. He said he's never eaten a raisin since, and it put me right off raisins, too.
Lesley, you're welcome! Hee.
Kate O', okay, that's possibly worse than worms.
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