Roasted Three Ways

Three miniature oil paintings on historic Mobile Bay pottery fragments, hand-collected along the Eastern Shore and displayed in brass and glass shadow box. 6x8x2”

There was always a grocery bag of boiled peanuts on the porch, oysters on the fire, and a pitcher of sweet tea sweating in the heat. But the real roast was the conversation—old Charlestonians in rockers, passing judgment like it was communion.

Someone was always “acting too big for his britches,” and you knew it was serious when it someone said “bless her heart.” Weekends weren’t quiet—they were full of bite, salt, and stories you weren’t supposed to repeat… but always did.