I made cheese today; a lemon and mint soft cheese with poppy seeds and lime.
It was made with local buffalo milk and organic lemons, which is all very well .. but really I made cheese as a distraction.
I was distracting myself from feeling naughty. Do you remember that feeling. Mischief.. .. it's the kind of feeling that as a child would make me rope my brother into going scrumping or play cherry knocking in the village, or dare him to climb a tree that I knew was far too big for him to climb down from. It's the kind of feeling that only goes away when you do something you shouldn't and just get away with it by a whisker.
I used to love the thrill of climbing over the neighbour’s fence, sneaking up under an apple tree, and picking the most tempting apple I could see. Of course my brother and I would then run. Really run. Perhaps it was the running that gave me the thrill. I was always convinced that we’d be caught. We’d have to find a spot to eat our warm slightly acidic, under ripe apples, and we'd laugh and laugh... more from the sheer pleasure of the deed than anything.
I'm not sure that we ever got caught .. but I do remember those stolen apples being delicious.