Cheese

cheese-596053_64

those bamboo legged, brightly dyed packages of fashion
who stalk trendy shops enticingly branded by a
greedy hand wielding sly psychological weapons for mass sales,
slavishly following some simpering style Guru
for fear that left to their own devices, they may
commit an accessorial faux pas and
find themselves sartorially in the middle of last week;

those lost little retail addicts who think that if they wear
clothes not yet cold from the needle which stitched them,
it will give them something which, while not essential
will at least help,
will at least fill a hole;
may do better to pick up a block of cheese.
any decent cheese will do:
dolcelatte, camembert, good strong cheddar, epoisse
or even that strange Norwegian cheese named gjetost
which is sweet, and feels like fudge against the teeth.
take a knife.
cut a big chunk.
eat and enjoy the texture, the savour, the flavour, the taste,

enjoy
the
mmm…

ยฉJane Paterson Basil

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35 thoughts on “Cheese

  1. That’s my kind of retail therapy. You can keep your clothes shopping and who needs a dozen pairs of strappy, needle sharp heels that you can break an ankle in? Give me some cheese. Yes to cheddar, dolcelatte, gorgonzola, stilton … Just the names are amazing. Ah, Jane – you’ve got me heading for the fridge ๐Ÿ™‚

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    1. Good idea. I’ve got a nice bit of cornish brie. I know this isn’t the sort of thing that one is meant to mention in decent sociiety, but I prefer it to the French. Pity I polished off the Gorganzola and Mascarpone yesterday.

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              1. I think if you eat anything fresh it’s amazing, isn’t it? We have a few strawberry plants and a cherry tree in the back garden and I’ve never had anything taste better than those. And when we had our allotment freshly pulled carrots were a revelation – sad but true that I should be so amazed by pointy veg ๐Ÿ™‚

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                1. Carrots, washed under a garden tap, and eaten while wet – amazing! But I’m not sure that it was the pointiness that attracted me.
                  We were allowed windfalls from the nearby farm, but instead we used to climb the trees and eat the apples while we were sitting up them, until the farmer caught us and chased us away. Then he said we couldn’t even have the windfalls. Dad was furious with us, because he worked on the farm. After that we were careful not to be seen.

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                  1. Scrumping – brilliant. Love the way you carried on, just being more careful – good for you ๐Ÿ™‚ Always makes me think of Cider with Rosie – all rolling in the hay and warm, dozy afternoons in the sun. Lovely.
                    Picking cherries from the back garden, watching my son clamber into our tree, hearing the stones hit the ground as he eats another and another. Memories to keep me warm when I’m old and grey (So, tonight then!)

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                    1. It’s not as if they used all of those apples anyway.
                      How lovely to have a cherry tree in your garden. Before I started secendary school I was told about a beautiful cherry tree that stood in the grounds. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered it wasn’t the fruiting kind. I remember saying “But what use are flowers if they don’t fruit?”

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                    2. I know, what’s the point? The flowers on a fruiting cherry might not be as flouncy, but they’re just as lovely when the sun shines through them and the bees are buzzing from on to the next

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                    3. I love bees. My brother has become a beekeeper. He’s got the only hive on the allotments where he gardens, and a couple of weeks ago he gave me some of his first batch honey. I’m thrilled for him. Next year he hopes to have three or four hives.

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                    4. Good man! We’d love a hive, but live in a tightly packed row of terraced houses with small gardens and some people get a bit weird about bees, don’t they? Especially near young kids. Maybe one day …

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                    5. Those poor bees, being accused of evil acts while they save our planet. Don’t they realise the bee dies if it goes to the extreme act of stinging to protect its hive?
                      I hope you achieve your ambition. I admire the keepers of bees.

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                    6. I work in a flower shop and recently, a woman asked me to recommend a plant she could have on her balcony. I said ‘A lavender. They smell amazing and they attract bees.’ ‘Oh, no!’ she said. ‘I can’t stand bees!’ I could have ranted – ‘it’s one sodding plant, you daft cow, you’re not gonna attract a swarm. And it’s people like you who’re destroying insect habitats and endangering life on the planet!’ I didn’t, of course – but I did give her a pitying look ๐Ÿ™‚

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                    7. You joke, but there’s a garden near us half full of silk flowers – all stuck in planters, the fabric fading from being in the sun. Odd.
                      Yeah, and who wants to have horrible bugs all around you when you can have a lovely, sterile balcony to sit on. From there she can inhale Bristol’s horrendously polluted air – double win ๐Ÿ™‚

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                    8. Ah, Bristol on a fresh spring morning – heaven.
                      My friend Elaine keeps promising to show me a small public garden near her which has plastic flowers on display, but she always puts it off. I think she’s trying to build up the suspense.
                      Is it wrong that I really want to go there? I’m sure it would inspire a great poem.

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                    9. Haha! Not wrong at all. There is something weirdly fascinating about it, just as it’s fascinating when people install artificial lawns – it smacks of some horrid, dystopian future where wildlife has to be replicated in oil-based plastics, all sprayed with air freshener in an atttempt to fill the hole nature has left behind.
                      Imagine acres of bright green, plastic pine trees 20 foot tall, like huge versions of Lego trees and all sprayed with car freshener to give that ‘genuine pine smell’. Ooh, just weirded myself out a little ๐Ÿ™‚

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                    10. And we’re all inside a giant, hermetically sealed dome, beyond which there is devastation. But there are pockets of people who survive out there, and when anyone is thrown to the wild for committing a crime, they find one of those groups of distrusting people, and learn a different way to live.
                      I have a feeling that story has already been written – maybe several times.

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      1. I used to take five types of cheese put it on a slice of bread, put in the toaster oven, then swirl it around into a gooey puddle and eat it with a 16 oz. glass of whole milk. Ah, those were the days. I figure I used up my enzymes by the time I was 16. I became completely lactose intolerant at 20, in college- no pizza:(

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