A very large south-facing window, a pillow and good book.
My book happens to be a warm, soul-satisfying one.
Ah, it makes me feel like cooking Italian, gardening, painting and fixing up anything that is old.
I can get as close as I can. I'm eating fresh, homemade parmesan and oregano foccacia with ham and Swiss. Just need a little arugula to top it off. But the black Greek olives are doing a pretty good job.
Let the wind blow! Where's my book?
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