Good things to know...
FYI. Bleu Cheese is the devil to get out of carpet and off the sofa. It's a soft cheese, you see, and any sort of wiping simply smears it into the fabric.
Therefore, shaking the container to mix the crumbles is officially a Bad Idea and should NEVER be attempted in the vicinity of any soft furnishings, especially if the lid is ill-fitting. The resulting explosion takes nearly an hour to clean up, although it probably takes less time if one isn't laughing uncontrollably.
Generous quantities of baking soda shaken over the carnage dries it up nicely for vacuuming. A coating of baking soda also keeps one's vacuum and family room from smelling like said Cheese, therefore preventing nausea in LH, who (poor dear) thinks Bleu Cheese is vile. He found himself in the middle of the explosion, but laughed as hard as I did, possibly in triumph over the sad loss of my dear Cheese, though he did manage to keep malicious tones out of his laughter.
LH's aversion to all things cheesy is one of the great failures of my marriage. One would think after 13 years I could have instilled tolerant civility if not fondness for a mild Parmesan at the very least.
Yes, patience with children was higher on my list of husbandly improvements, and as we have indeed experienced significant achievements in that area I'm not really complaining about his attitude toward Cheese. Maybe in 15 years when the children are gone, we'll work on Cheese, especially now that I've softened him up by giving him teasing fodder. Yep, meant to do that. Thank goodness it wasn't Brie.
Therefore, shaking the container to mix the crumbles is officially a Bad Idea and should NEVER be attempted in the vicinity of any soft furnishings, especially if the lid is ill-fitting. The resulting explosion takes nearly an hour to clean up, although it probably takes less time if one isn't laughing uncontrollably.
Generous quantities of baking soda shaken over the carnage dries it up nicely for vacuuming. A coating of baking soda also keeps one's vacuum and family room from smelling like said Cheese, therefore preventing nausea in LH, who (poor dear) thinks Bleu Cheese is vile. He found himself in the middle of the explosion, but laughed as hard as I did, possibly in triumph over the sad loss of my dear Cheese, though he did manage to keep malicious tones out of his laughter.
LH's aversion to all things cheesy is one of the great failures of my marriage. One would think after 13 years I could have instilled tolerant civility if not fondness for a mild Parmesan at the very least.
Yes, patience with children was higher on my list of husbandly improvements, and as we have indeed experienced significant achievements in that area I'm not really complaining about his attitude toward Cheese. Maybe in 15 years when the children are gone, we'll work on Cheese, especially now that I've softened him up by giving him teasing fodder. Yep, meant to do that. Thank goodness it wasn't Brie.