Once upon a time there was a house in the mountains inhabited by artists.

There were gardens.

And rock walls.

And lots and lots of rock statues and carvings.

There was music, too.  And food.  Always plenty of both.

But there was no pizza.  Which made the mountain people very sad.

So Mark (aka Blues Man) sorted through his piles of stone and created a pizza oven for Linda/Maggie (who plays a hot red accordion, by the way).  And Linda/Maggie created dough.

And people brought gifts in the shape of mushrooms and sausage and goat cheese and vegetables and basil and olives.

And the mountain people also brought their instruments.

 They played music while the oven heated.  Blues Man stoked the fire between songs.

The blessing was given.

And pizzas were created.

Mama Mia!

When the fortunate mountain people were sated, their bellies puffing up with dough and happiness, they returned to their instruments.

Blues Man, pleased and triumphant from the success of his oven, sang a song that was so sweet and so long the mandolins ached, the drum grew tired, the guitar cried for mercy, the keyboard howled in pain, the singers grew hoarse and the recorder begged for air.

It was a good song.

When it ended Linda/Maggie and Blues Man led the people inside for dessert:  caramel flan, strawberry cake and an odd offering shaped like a guitar.

The gods were pleased.

They all lived happily ever after and from that evening on always dreamt of pizza on warm July nights.