The Bell Kitchen

Memorial Day in Vermont: Burgers, Parades & Memories

I laid there, beneath my layered down-feathered blankets listening to the sound of the coffee maker begin to perk. Without my glasses the room radiated a copper-amber hue. The house was church-mouse quiet, unlit fire, no one was up yet. . .

Are you there, meatloaf? It’s me, Adam.

I must confess that I have been quite the lazy writer as of late. Lackluster on the posts and unable to make the time to share with you all that has (or has not) been cooking . . .