The Pie-Smoke Signal — Every afternoon, when the stone cottage smelled like warm crust and thyme, Juniper set herself one impossible challenge before snack: make the chimney puff three perfect smoke loops. Read the full story →
Every afternoon, when the stone cottage smelled like warm crust and thyme, Juniper set herself one impossible challenge before snack: make the chimney puff three perfect smoke loops. She fed the stove dry apple twigs, damp mint stems, and one crumb of cinnamon roll. Usually the smoke sneezed upward in a wobbly noodle.
Until one day, Juniper tossed in a twist of orange peel and whispered, “Loop, loop, loop!” The chimney burped three fat rings that floated over the roof. Because of that, the sparrows thought it meant crumbs. Because of THAT, the tulips bobbed, the gate clicked, and neighbors followed the sweet, smoky smell down the stone path with empty plates and very hopeful eyebrows.
Juniper stared at the crowd, then laughed so hard flour puffed off her sleeves. Finally, she carried out the pie, sliced it into skinny moon-pieces, and declared the smoke loops a picnic alarm. Next time you spot that curling chimney, see if you can tell whether it says loop, loop, loop.
