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"More, p'ease" #4

Framepool stock footage
Hudson Bay trappers and hunters came to what is now Ashland, Oregon, in about 1820, in landscape reminiscent of much of Northern California, where--it is now grudgingly asserted, Californians have driven up housing prices by moving there.  Well, somebody drove them up!

Immigrant settlers came to the Rogue Valley in the 1850, driving up prices and driving out Native Americans.  Damn the immigrants!  They have always been a problem, until they begin to be accepted.  Being a white majority is O.K., until it looks like the majority may only be a plurality.  That is what someone of Native American descent, who looked just like lots of other people, told me.  He wanted America to be great again; asked how long I was going to stay in town.

In 1935, Angus Bowmer arranged a Shakespeare performance for a Fourth of July celebration, which has grown into an internationally renowned theater company with splendid facilities.  We saw "Merry Wives of Windsor" in a fine Globe-like theater; one of three major venues.

Ashland is graced with a long park following a river right down to the center of town, and there we went, first to the upland park perfect for children, and then, later, to its banks downtown for the sidewalk cafes behind buildings facing the streets on the other side.







The ankle-deep water was cold--it was reported to me--but not so cold as to deter wading or to force an early exit.






Personally, I am done with wading.
I am done with drinking undiluted water.
Water is for doing dishes,
and for blending into potions.


That brings to to those sidewalk, small-riverside cafes, at one of which I managed to discover a delightful Italian lager, even more wonderful boquerones, and best, a vintner's margarita made with verjus, Milagro tequila, and cointreau.  I shall try to make one, myself, and I shall fail in the trying, a happy man willing to fail and fail again on my road to redemption.












Elliot fancied the flowers
while we fancied the nectar.










Those conveniently-blameable Californians
with available cash and good taste,
and those everybody-elses who could do so
have, indeed, driven the prices to
twice the level of neighboring towns,
but the neighboring towns do not have
a Shakespeare repertory, and all the subsequent
amenities that come from a town desired.

We voted it a come-again place, and said what-if.





Elliot settled in
for some serious eating.
"More, p'ease!", she said.




















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