Ash

Each year, when the season of Lent comes around, I do my best to make a few resolutions: generally in the form of giving up unnecessary treats, denying myself extravagant luxuries, and seeking to make the world a cheerier place by having a go at whatever good deeds come to hand. Spurning chocolate in its many and varied forms is one resolution I usually have a go at, when I'm feeling particularly enthused. It is curious why so many people choose to abstain from chocolate, almost as if it is personally to blame for the lack of spirituality and general moral decline of the modern world. After all, it is quite a big thing to blame on a simple piece of chocolate. You can imagine it develops something of a complex, believing all of creation's ills lie at its feet. But I suppose the point is not that chocolate is the fountain of all evil (although I sometimes think that about white chocolate), but that a period of simple self-denial, as opposed to continual over-indulgence, helps us to reflect on our inner selves and the importance we attach to material things during our journey through life; which can't be a bad thing.

I don't always succeed. The house is littered with temptation. (I mean, nice things to eat, in case you were concerned what other forms of temptation I might have strewn about.) I can still see remnants of edible Christmas gifts by the window, and even my daughter's uneaten Hallowe'en treats. It is difficult to stare at these things for the next six weeks without breaking down at some point, usually when my spirits are at a particularly low ebb. Perhaps I should hide it all in a cupboard. Or melt it down and make a very large refrigerator cake. And then hide that in a cupboard.