I did it. As small a slice as I could ask the gentleman behind the cheese case to cut.
I watched him use the cheese wire and halve the smallest wedge of Cob Hill Ascutney Mountain on display.
My anniversary gesture.
Eight dollars.
For the past four years I have hardly made a trip to Whole Foods without spotting the Cob Hill cheese in the glass case. Ever waiting for the sale sign that would bring it within my price range, I have only purchased this cheese two or three times before. It is never a sale item.
Whole Foods cheeses are a two-income treat to which I rarely treat myself.
It is early June, however. Few vacation moments match the Saturday morning four years ago when I raised my eyes from the tombstones of a roadside churchyard in Cornish, New Hampshire. In clear view across the Connecticut River was Mount Ascutney in neighboring Vermont.
There are times when you ask the universe for something with all your heart. That morning in June, I could not stop myself from asking for what I wanted – a life in which the beauty I saw in that vista could fill my heart. The future of your heart matters when you have undone the way your life looks the year before.
All this in a raw cow’s milk cheese from Vermont? Yep.
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