The Cheesing of the Relatives

Whenever Pam and I shred cheese we tend to shake the grater where the extra cheese falls on the kitchen floor so Clive can eat it. We also used to do this with Montana and Roux, or two deceased bassets. Pam has always referred to this act as “the cheesing of the bassets”. Needless to say, when Pam or I get the cheese grater out Clive gets very excited.

Hey Ken your cheese has been packed with love, though not necessarily skill.

Years ago when Pam and I were first introduced to the beauty of Wisconsin cheese (seriously, I’m not sure that I would call what I ate before moving up here cheese – this stuff is so much better) we decided to send it to our relatives as Christmas gifts. It was so well received that most of them told us that they never wanted anything else other than cheese for Christmas. So each year Pam or I hike over to Rudolph to our favorite cheese factory, Dairy State Cheese. As busy as the factory store is each year it is obvious that many other out of state families have also asked for nothing but cheese for Christmas.

Anyhow today I made the trip over to Rudolph, then Pam and I packed the cheese and mailed it to our relatives. It should be there in time for y’all to have some Christmas cheese (other than Jim’s jokes -ūüėú).

I believe I will now take a phrase from Pam and refer to this as “the cheesing of the relatives“.

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