I will rather trust a Fleming with my butter

Today, in Borough market, I was buying cheese and meat, two Weasel staples, when I came across a French provincial cheese shop. The young chap was very helpful, loading my bag with various familiar cheeses. I then pointed to a small log which had an even smaller sign next to it declaring it was raw sheep’s milk cheese.

He gave me a small taste. It was divine. He said the monk that makes it uses thyme to add a bit of depth to the flavour. He also told me a story.

The monk lives and works in a monastery somewhere deep in the French countryside. He is a cheese making wizard. He used to just make goat’s cheese, the goats tended and milked by his fellow monks. The trip from grazing to cheese was very, very short.

Gradually the other monks died off, leaving him alone at the monastery. He was unable to tend and milk the goats so the herd was split up (or eaten, I guess) and suddenly he was bereft, rambling around a massive great nearly empty monastery mostly without any cheese. One day, sitting on a hillside, resting from his Biblical perusings, he spied a flock of sheep and hit on the idea of approaching the local farmer and asking for sheep’s milk.

The farmer agreed and so cheese-making returned to the monastery and the Cheese Making Monk was happy once more. And, to be honest, so was I. An exceptionally lovely cheese.

Southwark Bridge starling

The reason I was at Borough market buying cheese was because today was the first Globe date for 2019. The play was The Merry Wives of Windsor which we saw many years ago at one of our first (if not THE first) Weasel dates with Shakespeare. (I haven’t been able to find an entry for it so I’m not sure when but I’m certain we did.)

Anyway, because of my accepting a lift from Mirinda on her way to guitar, I was ridiculously early and found myself wandering around, having a coffee then, finally, settling in to the early opening Anchor Inn, waiting for the others.

I didn’t have long to wait as John turned up just as I settled into a chair with a fresh pint to hand. He bought one for himself and we moved outside to wait for the others.

John reminded me that, because today was the Queen’s ‘official’ birthday, there was to be a fly past Buck House at 1pm and we would be perfectly placed to watch it as it turned on and across the Thames. And, of course, he was right. (Lorna took an excellent photo of the Red Arrows flying in formation with a sign post pointing towards Buckingham Palace in the foreground.)

Eventually, the rest of our party arrived and I stood up to greet them, one by one, with a big hug. As I reached the end of the seven strong queue, a couple of ladies on the table next to us jumped up demanding one as well. A little later, one of the ladies told John that I looked familiar, wondering who I was. John told her she probably knew me from Neighbours. This caused great hilarity.

Eventually Tottie turned up and we were complete. Our group this time consisted of Me, John, Lorna, Darren, Bex, Lex, Tottie, Anthea, Lauren and Will. While it was rather odd not having Lindy there, it was great seeing Tottie as it’s been an absolute age between drinks.

Of course we all had the usual hilarious time drinking a couple of (ridiculously expensive) pints before heading up to the Globe for the play.

We were in our favourite Gentlemen’s Box B and we set out our picnic ready for the off. Which came in due course.


The play was very, very funny, the performers excellent (as you’d expect). I thought Pearce Quigley was a marvellous Falstaff and Sarah Finigan and Bryony Hannah superb as the two merry wives, Mistresses Page and Ford respectively.

Of course, everyone else was brilliant as well including the amazing band which sounded like it had just stepped out of the 1930’s. In fact, the whole thing was set in the Britain of the 1930’s which I thought worked well.

Something else that worked remarkably well was the modern cultural reference at the end when Fenton was called for.

Anyway, a lot of enjoyment was had by all and we took our leave of the Wooden O with broad smiles upon our faces.

People gradually peeled off and the last of us found ourselves in a pub on the Strand which served as a delightful stopping off point before settling in at The George…as usual.

Me, Anthea, Lorna, Darren, John, Bex and Lex. Selfie skills by Lex.

Another great day of Weaselling.

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