A cheesy story

This is a little story I have been meaning to tell you for about a week and a half. Here's how it goes:
About a week and a half ago I was at work with the Dirty Hoe, which, for those of you who don't know, is a gardening and landscaping company. We were working out in Brevard on a site and got rained out about hafway through the day. On the way home, Heidi (company co-owner) spotted an employee of a certain store (which will remain anonymous) "chucking" multiple boxes into its dumpster, which is visible from the road. She said, "Call Paul and tell him about this!" Paul is the Dirty Hoe resident dumpster diver.
I called Paul and informed him of what we had witnessed. He went down there to check the scene, and about a half hour later he showed up at the house (which is also serves as the Dirty Hoe Central Control Panel) with cases and cases of mozarella cheese and a big ole honkin wheel of Morbier's Charles Arnaud semi-soft cheese (aged over 60 days). He deposited the goods and then went back for a second round.
While he ws gone, we decided we would cut into the wheel and see what it was all about. Donna (other company owner) obtained the finest wooden cutting board and the sharpest, shiniest kitchen knife. She very deliberately cleared the counter and positioned the wheel on the board. Before she cut the cheese, she considered long and hard what was the best way to make the first cut. I mean she was handling that cheese like it was the $300 piece of fine cuisine that it was, not like it was something that was scored for free at the local dumpster. She cut the wheel slowly and respectfully, and when she had cut off the first piece, we passed it around and smelled it and oohed and ahhed like people who were very very impressed and excited. Because we were. Heidi's mom and her friend were in town from Austria, and we all know those Austrians really like them a good snack. Someone had the good idea to cut up some pears to go with the cheese, and we may have even pulled ut some specialty schnapps, I can't recall. But I do recall that there was so much delight taken in snacking on this cheese that you could never imagine. And the way Donna handled it like a professional was just classic Donna. Crucial. They did some research later and found out that this particular cheese is made by a dairy cooperative somewhere way up in the Alps on the France Switzerland border. The farmers take their cows up to high altitudes to graze during the summer season, and the quality of the milk changes dramatically due to the difference in plant materials. The quantity of milk the cows give reduces, but it becomes richer and higher in a certain bacteria that aids the making of this cheese. They do not add extra cultures, and protect layers of fermenting cream with a layer of ash, which creates a beautiful charcoal colored stripe in the center of the cheese. It was lovey to behold and rich and gamey and delightful to the taste.
When Paul came back and all the mozarella was cleaned and sorted through and any marginal cheese was discarded, we ended up with the entire wheel of Morbier's Charles Arnaud and about 50 pounds of mozarella! Get it Paul.