Goat cheese

We have scraped together supper from what is left in the fridge. Small, sweet tomatoes from our own greenhouse; the last few olives in the bottom of the jar; a week old loaf of bread; and three scrag ends of cheese.


I pick up the goat cheese and examine it, then put it down again.

“Don’t you want it?” he asks me.

I shake my head “It’s too far gone for me.”

He picks it up and puts it on his own plate.


As I slice the bread I am aware that he is busy with the cheese. Out of the corner of my eye I see him cut away the rind, then scrape off the soft gooeyness I dislike so much. Moments later, small parcels of crumbling fresh cheese arrive on the edge of my plate. My eyes fill with tears.

“I love you so much” I tell him.


Yes, this is the reality of love. This is what matters. That we have been together so long he knows just how I like my goat cheese; and that after all these years he still cares enough to do for me what I am too tired to do for myself.


It is our anniversary on Monday. Keep your cards, your champagne, your flowers and jewellery; this is the moment I will treasure. This is what is real.



  1. often we tend to attribute love to commercial things. How sweetly and deftly you have shown its true meaning. Its all about the little things & a very happy anniversary.

  2. Damnit woman, do you want to make me CrY!!?
    just reading this I have tears in my eyes…

    that is so..so sweet..in a poignant kind of way..
    thoughtful and touching….

    happy anniversary love,
    may many more moments like these bless your life 🙂

  3. The wonder of life is that it’s made up of a patchwork of tiny things. I hope I never forget the goat cheese… and thanks for all your good wishes.

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