Excerpt from Chapter 16 - Going to Uncle Clémmôn's Vineyard.

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"...The next morning after the girls awoke, Sarah went across the hall to check if Marci felt any better and
had a good night's rest.  Marci was ensconced in her cloud-like mattress pad, slowly tried raising an arm
upwards and out of her deep futon-like bed, and found that she could actually move on her own again. 
Marci's near-paralytic stupor from the pain pills faded in the night, she also felt wide-awake, eager to
take on the day; she was especially hungry, since she hadn't eaten since the picnic by Putah Creek the
previous day.
Adding to their early morning energy, a blazing sun, streaking into both guest rooms' through east facing
windows, said hello in its own intense way, to a couple of sleepy travelers. Their two rooms, each
with its en-suite bathroom, were on either side of the upstairs hallway.  Rooms on that level were arranged
on either side of a wide upper-floor hallway, be they the master bedroom on the south side and Clémmôn's
den across the hall, had en-suite bathrooms.
Marci and Sarah were in the best sleeping quarters in the hacienda since their windows faced the first
light of dawn. Sarah's room, on the southeast, corner of the hacienda, received a double dose of sunlight
through her east window as well as one facing south.  After nine o'clock, the large overhanging eaves
conveniently blocked sunlight for the rest of the day.  If a guest went up to those rooms for an afternoon
siesta, the sun would not be able to interrupt their P.M. catnap.
Down in the east-to-west aligned backyard patio, the kitchen staff served breakfast to the Aragônne
vineyard crew in a blaze of morning sunlight, penetrating every available nook and cranny.  Everyone was
delighted with their self-served breakfast from a wide variety of comestibles.  Piles of chorizo sausages and
tortillas, complemented by fresh cooked eggs, bacon and Jamón Ibérico, (a delectable variety of nut-infused
Spanish ham) powered strong hard-working bodies throughout a long workday.
As Marci and Sarah came down stairs the enveloping scents and aromas of a Latin-style breakfast,
enticed them to find, radar-like the center of the breakfast table. The first to spot the two hungry travelers, and ask for their breakfast requests was chef, Bob Ludwig, who spread his huge arms out to welcome both college ingénue vintnersto to his breakfast repast.
He asked Marci and Sarah, "How shall I prepare your eggs, Spanish, New England or British style with bangers and mash?"
"Marci was surprised and asked, "Chef Ludwig, you have bangers here in a Latin house hold?"
"Mais oui, et mes vignerons intellectuels affamés. (lit. trans. Fr.; But of course, and yes, my hungry
intellectual vintners). You think we have forgotten our roots, perhaps?"
Marci's eyes grew 'round as she asked for the full English breakfast, and Sarah's palette was tempted as she requested the Spanish ham and two over-easy eggs with a dollop of red-chili salsa.
"Such iconoclasts in my kitchen; I shall endeavor to prepare a breakfast that will break gastronomic
records mes amis (lit. trans. Fr.; my friends)."
After they finished, the two-full-of-anticipation vintners broke their records of many school months,
during which sustenance was their only goal in the college dining room, by meekly holding up their plates
up to Chef Ludwig and daring to ordering seconds. Marci was dignified to say, "Only one more egg Chef
Ludwig."
Sarah echoed her breakfast companion with, "Yes please Chef Ludwig, only one for me as well."
The chef seeing a chance to get the mickey in on both girls, bellowed, "You dare ask for more; you
haven't even put in your twelve hours in the grape stomping barrels; what nerve of you two. Of course, my
dears, you may have some more; just bring me a bottle of Cabernet tonight for dinner!"
The beaming smiles on Marci's and Sarah's faded temporarily, and then returned as they realized the
chef's joke and his take on "Oliver." Together they replied, "Thank you sir." Then the morning breakfast
crew laughed at being the brunt of Chef Ludwig's twisted sense of humor
...

© 2018, R. L. Lyons. All rights reserved.