Another clunk, another box blocking the doorway. This one from Sheboygan. Well, Sheboygan Falls, which isn’t quite as funny, no Conservatory of Music (good school), but does include the little exurban burg of Gibbsville, and the only thing besides barns and contented cows in Gibbsville is the world famous cheese factory. Gibbsville Cheese! I unseal the box to find pound sized blocks of cheese nirvana, four of them, in various degrees of cheddarness. Also some cheese food, which is what cheese eats, one of them infused with port wine, which is what cheese drinks, and some Gouda, which is, just in case you thought I was above that joke. They threw in a 20 oz summer sausage because Wisconsin. Ordinarily a bunch of this, like a bunch of the Usinger’s (see the previous post) would be put out at the party for the stoners. Not this year. Ah well, such are the times.

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