October 14, 2004


Tonight we punted dinner and went to Restaurante Luis for a quick pizza. Talking to the owners (who are so happy and smiling so sweetly, so much so that it's hard to walk by sometimes) and they tell us of stomping grapes when they were kids at Can Marcelino, the old cava (winery) that is now our house. I asked her about the basement described by others, and she said yes, there is one. She said that people used to hide their boys there for fear of being conscripted into the Civil War.

Our house has a mysterious basement. How big is it? I imagine low arched ceilings and about three feet of standing water. Maybe its a little onion cellar, not much more than a pit? Maybe it's a Piranesian fantasy! Thick arches and stairs and rooms that leads to rooms to rooms.

Everyone drops the idea of treasure when we speak of it. PIRATE TREASURE! A Disney image of a chest laden with pearls and brooches and coins silver and gold. The lady at restaurante Luis tonight mentioned silver coins (gold for the upper classes) that are hidden here and there by the ancient Spanairds as insurance against calamity. "Plata muy puro!"

The mystery deepens. Where is the entry to this cellar? When we returned, I started knocking on the floor, stomping for the hollow sound.

Posted by Dennis at October 14, 2004 10:06 PM


rape bot|gone with the wind

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