Where I live, cherry blossoms are kind of a big deal. Like, a
really big deal. They have trips and tours and festivals all centered around cherry blossoms. Cherry blossoms are their own season. Like winter. A pale pink, cotton-candy winter. The blossoms even dance through the sky and pile up in drifts on the side of the road. It's
lovely.
Except in my neighborhood. My neighborhood is barren of these pink little gems because of some strange, cosmic imbalance that maintains my dwelling at a temperature at least 10 degrees colder than the rest of the town. And I will have to wait at least one more week to see them from the comfort of my pajamas. Unless, of course...I cheat and make some out of cookie branches and fondant.
These were a struggle between form and function for me. In order to make the branches edible they had to be twice the diameter of a regular branch. Otherwise, they wouldn't hold the weight of the blossoms. They would have been prettier if I'd just made them thinner and baked them longer so they were hard and crunchy.
But then when my 4 year old ate them as a special treat after finishing his
very healthy macaroni and cheese... he would have cried because they tasted slightly of charcoal and he would have run to his room and cried some more and then when I tried to read him a book to make him feel better, he would have sobbed to me,
"Why don't you love me?"
and I would have spent hours trying to console him, rubbing his back endlessly while speaking comforting words just above a whisper and then my arm would have gone numb from his head pressed against it and I would have tried to find a way to extricate it while still reaffirming my love to him and it wouldn't have worked and we'd have to start the process all over again.
So...I had to go with thick branches. I hope you understand.
