Fresh Figs? Oh My!

I have lived my entire life in climates that produced snow except for the 3 years I spent in Dallas. My experience as a gardener was the basis I used to chart the many differences of life in The South. Spring arrived in March and equaled June becuase the irises were blooming. By early August, all summer blooms were spent(annuals were too tall and tired to continue in 100 degree heat) and a 2nd planting was added. Winter, where nothing grew, only lasted 3 months and rarely dipped below 30.
Of course, there's a very scientific system in place to categorize this called the United States Department of Agriculture Plant Hardiness zone map.
Two things I most remember about southern living were Caladiums and fresh figs. I was first served fresh figs at a grocery store tasting. The grower was present and had paired the figs with fresh marscapone cheese. It was heavenly. Of course this was no ordinary grocery store - this was Central Market: the bastion of foodie worship.
Yesterday, while shopping at Wauwatosa Sendiks I spied about a dozen small baskets of fresh figs almost hidden on a very low shelf. Half were deep plum and half were light green and I immediately took one of each. Fresh figs are terribly fragile and correspondingly were terribly expensive, but having not seen a single fig in 5 years allowed me to know this was a time to be extravagant. I then wandered back into their cheese aisle and found both a good marscapone and a triple creme brie(when tossing cholesterol to the wind go for the the whole package!).
Upon returning home I was as excited as if I'd just procured a new pair of shoes. I quickly unpacked everything else then sat down to some smooth eating - slighly sweet and so creamy - while watching a tape of one of televisions guilty pleasures. I was 2 for 2 in the guilty pleasure department. Fresh figs - oh my!