Pizza and Beer and Good Conversation…

We woke up to no electricity on our first morning in Weston.  The storm had knocked out isolated properties, we were told, and the men were on their way.

They arrived about noon and tinkered with the pole on our land behind the barn.

Our phone service was grim because we are set quite low and surrounded by trees.

As yet we had no internet.

Unpacking did not require electricity and we had gas to heat our water so we were undeterred by the lack of power, we needed nothing brighter than daylight and with the windows open the house was cool.

After a couple of hours we made our way back to civilisation to finish clearing out the flat, give it a quick once over, have it walked through and hopefully re-gain most of our deposit.

We lost all our frozen food, the freezer had been left slightly ajar and we weren’t going to take any chances.  I have no idea where we would have put the perishables if we hadn’t dumped everything!

We found a booster unit for our T-Mobile phone service and investigated Hot Spots which are expensive and dependent on phone service which isn’t reliable.

We prayed that God knew what He was doing when he led us to our land and waited out the delay in communication for another day.

Every week on a Wednesday a neighbor invites all who live down the lane, and in the surrounding areas, for home-made pizza from her specially crafted, wood burning, brick oven, local wines and boutique brews.

Who can say “No” to such an invitation especially when overawed-ness besieges us?

Pizza

Within an hour the place was alive with people of all ages from the metroplex, friends, retired colleagues and neighbors, the more the merrier!

I had been forewarned that there was quite an international group on the lane and farm to market road and was not completely surprised to hear an English accent…or two!  The couple who own the winery a mile or so down the main road, whose wine is mighty fine by the way, were not only from England  but from Kent and not just any old place in the county that stretches for 80 miles or so across England towards London, but Broadstairs!

How coincidental is that?

Daughts and I made a pizza,

Pizza2

based with pesto, sprinkled liberally with gorgonzola, garnished with olives and jalapeños, scattered with bacon, strewn with mozzarella and dotted with tomatoes and spinach.

It was heavenly.

The evening proved to be just what we needed to cheer us up and re-establish the fact that there is nothing to beat face-to-face communication.

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