POST-MISTRAL

During the night a Fearful wind battered the shutters Against the stones, and Screamed down the chimney, A maniacal ghost whirling dead ashes, Flinging the kitchen door open, Smashing it against the wall, Shattering the panes. This silent morning-after, Only broken glass, ashes everywhere Witness to the night’s frenzy. Leaves in the grape arbor whisper,… Continue reading POST-MISTRAL

Olive-Onion Boule

Our 17th century kitchen doesn’t have an open hearth with a spit for roasting venison, but still, it feels like it could have.  There is a cubby hole in one wall that clearly used to be an oven with a fire underneath.  Now, it hides recycling containers and a rubbish bin.  Next to it is… Continue reading Olive-Onion Boule