For Kirsten Powers, somewhere in Puglia By Joseph Harris Kirsten, I hear you found a trullo. Good. You always struck me as someone who understood that the best decisions look slightly irrational from the outside. Moving to the heel of Italy’s boot — that narrow, sun-hammered peninsula that juts into the Adriatic like an afterthought — is exactly the kind of move that makes complete sense once you’ve walked your own land, stood among your own olive trees, and tasted the bread.