Years ago, when I first started writing, I had a neighbour who would come home from work and see me out in the backyard, scribbling away, lost in thought (probably on some pirate ship somewhere with Errol Flynn, swinging through the rigging). A hand would come through the slats of the fence with a tall, cold Bloody Caesar on the end of it….spiced just right…delicious. I often think of Woody and wonder where he ended up. Last I heard he was out in BC somewhere. I still enjoy Caesars after a long busy day, and I still make them the way Woody taught me.
September 3, 2010
Caesars Through the Fence