We would eat chocolate with a fox

These are entirely my fault.

Fox Friends

The other week, when I was visiting Laurel (for an event I will soon describe here), we visited Paper Source in Cambridge. Paper Source is a dangerous store for me. One of the few that I find entirely irresistible (another is Formaggio Kitchen). A store that sucks me in off the street and doesn’t let me out again until I’ve spent something a lot.

So I don’t go often. I think I made it a year since my last visit. I was due. Over due.

Among all the shelves and tables of cards, papers, ribbons, tags, pastes, punches, stamps, labels, scissors and other DIY goodies, there’s a table of sample, assembled projects. And there he stood. That little fox. I took one look and knew that Hyla would love it.

So, last week, we had a fox factory here at the dining room table, busily cutting out and gluing ears, tails, tail tips, noses, eyes, and face masks, and assembling the little fox boxes.

Yesterday, the whole troop went to school, each fox filled with chocolate treats and little notes from Hyla to her friends. The one for the school dog has a dog biscuit, and salt water taffy for the one teacher who doesn’t like chocolate (imagine!). At today’s school Valentine’s Day party, they will each find their new owners and trot happily to their new homes.

No more foxes here for us. But we do have the spare chocolate.

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