Not what you want to be doing at 5.20am
At last the Quinquennial builders have finished decorating and twiddling with our house. On their last day they had a fair bit to finish up and rushed around trying to tie up all the loose ends but they didn’t quite have time for everything. One loose end that they missed was the wire feeding electricity to our burglar alarm. The battery gave up at 5.20am the next morning. And then the alarm decided it had been tampered with and proceeded to go off almost constantly throughout Thursday until the alarm people came to sort it out.
As you can imagine, we were rather spacey throughout the day. My irritation was tempered, however, by the cheese mystery….
As the chaps were pottering around the house on their final day I had decided to sort out the airing cupboard, which I needed to finish emptying and restock with sheets and towels that had been soaked in an earlier Quinquennial mishap. I went in to get the final bits and pieces out and… discovered a cheese.
How did it get there?
It was a Sunday night Vicarage supper cheese that I’d bought a couple of weeks ago. I’d wondered where it was on the previous Sunday evening. And there it was. Sitting in my airing cupboard. Not oozing or stinking yet, but perfectly ripe and ready to eat. A cheese mystery. And to date the mystery is unsolved. All Vicarage inhabitants deny putting cheese in the airing cupboard. Perhaps I did it in my sleep – maybe it’s a sign that I need to go on holiday sooner rather than later.
One Twitter friend suggested that perhaps I would then find perfectly ironed linen in my fridge, but alas I only found some wizened ginger and lots of jars of obscure oriental relishes.
In the meantime, the mystery of the airing cupboard cheese makes me laugh every time I think of it. And we are considering leaving all our cheese in the airing cupboard in the future. As long as we don’t leave it there too long.
The Vicar's Wife 
An intriguing mystery. For some bizarre reason we always seemed to have food in our vicarage airing cupboard. I can remember bags of sugar, cloves and even seed potatoes sitting among towels, sheets etc. I think it all ties in with vicarage life being a bit more chaotic than that found elsewhere!
My parents came round to see us on Christmas Eve about three years ago. There was a funny smell and I thought that the cat had misbehaved and some one had trodden in the result. However, there were no marks on the carpet.
Parents had a cup of tea and went – and the smell remained. At least it wasn’t them but then Lesley and I couldn’t work out what it was and are too polite to suggest that it was a ‘who’. All was revealed on Christmas Morning when we unwrapped the present from parents – a selection of cheeses including a gorgonzola! It knocked on the door of the fridge once it when in there.
Dad is ordained so perhaps it is something that happens when Bishops bash yer head!
How strange but very funny. I wonder whtat you find in there next time xx