Thursday, October 25, 2012

Traumatic cheese

Cheese is an odd thing to get upset about.

I was in the fridge yesterday looking for a (low-carb) snack - I'm trying to pick back up on the post-baby diet I was on in 2010 when dad was diagnosed and somehow losing the pregnancy weight became secondary to life... I pulled out the cheese drawer and came face to face with the remaining third of a Black Crowdie. Shona had given me it three weeks ago. When we had our uni reunion Shona had brought the cheese and biscuits and Sheina had brought to grapes and strawberries to eat with it. (Linda and Gillian had brought more main dishes). It somehow seemed wrong, incongruous to find a cheese from what seems now like another era. So much has happened in three weeks and yet the cheese is just sitting there showing me life goes on regardless. How can Sheina be gone but the cheese still be here?

I know that makes no sense but I guess death is like that...

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