Sage was out in the yard this weekend, smelling the smoke from grass fires in the county as they're fanned by high winds and remembering the time MMario's aurouch barbecue got a little out of control outside the South Door* (the Oz entrance) of the Tavern and burned a swath all the way down to the beach. Nearly scorched the squid on his way up for a visit, he did. Calamari on the hoof it would have been.
Getting out a broom, she pushes twigs, sand, grass, and an opportunistic pack rat's nest out of the front door. Finding a shovel and bucket she clears out the ashes from the last fire and dumps it into the compost pile out back. Rubber gloves and a heavy-duty sponge are then used to attack the bar and the stove top behind it.
Finally, she fills a large pot with apple cider and sets it on a low flame with a generous handful of mulling spices floating on top.