The grounds were full ofshrubs, bushes, flowers, longhedges laced with honeysuckle, andlots of trees, including a FIG, apear, twocrab apples, and a huge oldoakinthe front.
In Italy, where I can slide my mortar and pestle across a counter, brace myself, and move it to the table, the only thing that ever fell on my foot was a full bottle of Barolo, and it was three in the morning, I had been working late, and the fig tart in the oven was about to burn.