The Postman Called

I have so many posts in draft and so many from ages ago that topicality will certainly not be the point when I press the 'publish' button.  I will start today with an incident from yesterday.  Just after noon the postman arrived.   He went to the back of his van and produced a large and fairly heavy cardboard box.  "You have no idea how glad I am to be getting rid of this." he said.  "I just wish that you were at the start of my round and not over half way through.  It smells like some very serious cheese."  That was odd because I certainly hadn't ordered any cheese.  I duly applied my monicker to his electronic pad.  We were just chatting when Gaz's posemobile drew up and the postie and Gaz started an animated chat about times past, present and future (postie was in school with our first son, Andrew).

In the meantime I came into the house and opened the parcel: a scrumptious hamper which was, you guessed it, based on superb cheeses and all the accompaniments.  It was a birthday prezzie from Gaz.  (the sending of which had been delayed due to the fact that the post would't deliver anything over 10kg so the company had had to seek revised instructions from Gaz).  Postie's and my curiosity suitably satisfied Gaz and I had a wonderful leisurely and suitably cheesy lunch.  The lettuce and tomatoes offset the cheese and tracklements - leastways we kidded ourselves that they did. 

I'm sure that anyone who loves cheese (and possibly many who don't) can tell tales of travelling with cheese.  We drove en famille from Barvaria once with a cheese which had been give to us as a present (I seem to recall it was Limburger)  which despite being in a container and triple wrapped in polythene stank the car out for the 1000+ miles home to the Hebrides.