It was difficult coming up with a name for this venture that didn’t sound Hoity-toity or droll.
There were plenty of suggestions. “Bon Fromage” was one possibility and certainly would have been an appropriate greeting when answering the phone at a cheese shop. “Toot Fromage” was another suggestion, made tongue-in-cheek by male friends spending too much time drinking beer in my basement. “Grande Fromage” was another satirical possibility (I am only 5’ and a little bit, not exactly a looming stature). I was raised in Aylmer, Ontario, not Aylmer, Quebec. I grew up in an area surrounded by flat tobacco fields and too many mosquitoes, not lush mountainside pastures grazed upon by contented French cows. I’m as English Canadian as the letter ‘Zed’ and even though cheese has such a strong link with all good things French, I knew that I couldn’t, in good faith, lean towards something French in my name. It was important to find a name that truly speaks to the reason for being, (raisin d’etre, non…) one that reflected where I was heading.
While I couldn’t go with something French, I wanted my name to reflect the part of my life that led to the pursuit of this goal. I’m a stay-at-home mum and my lengthy days are never long enough to get it all done. While I would never wish to go back to days without kids, there are certainly tiring days filled with mind numbing moments that made me question the so called ‘rat race’. Just what was everybody after? What were those pesky rats racing after that I couldn’t see?
Truthfully, I’m not interested anymore in knowing what those rats are chasing. I’d rather step back and pursue something else. While we often live in the rat race, when we finally get to the end of a hectic day or a seemingly unending week, and we take the time to experience and savour a moment, we honour some of the simpler pleasures in life: an aged Cheddar, a buttery Brie, a smoked Gouda.
I’ve also spent a lot of time reading great stories to my kids. There are days when I feel like I’m literally living the classic stories that my kids enjoy, particularly the story about the Gingerbread Boy. The good spoils in life share many of the same qualities as Good Cheese. And Good Cheese is a lot like that elusive and taunting Gingerbread Boy – hard to get your hands on, but if you are patient (and yes, astute) like the fox, it will come right to you. In the end, we all know what happens to that saucy little boy too full of sugar. ‘Snap Snap’ – he’s eaten, and enjoyed.
Chasing the Cheese is a name that works on many levels. It is a slap in the face to our ‘rat race’ society. It acts as a reminder that a worthy goal requires us to keep moving, to never get complacent but also to take notice of the moment. The child like innuendo of the name pays honour to my children who are constantly teaching me how to improve. It refers to pleasures that my family enjoys sharing with others. Just as each day is not a passive noun but an active pursuit, so is Chasing the Cheese.
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372 Water Street
© 2009, Chasing The Cheese
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