Post vacation

We were away for a whole week by ourselves; we had a wonderful time. We hiked and walked between thirty miles and forty miles total by my reckoning, hitting our favorite trails around the Ashland, Oregon area; hiking by day, playgoing by night, to the tune of seven performances. There were revisits of some we've seen at least once, like Corialanus, Midsummer Night's Dream and Othello, and some unfamiliar territory such as a version of an ancient Sanskrit text called The Clay Cart, and an August Wilson work called Fences, which was the best drama, I thought. It stirred up such deep memories of dealing with problematic fathers that we're still discussing it.There was a brand new play titled The Further Adventures of Hedda Gabler, not really a promising-sounding title, but it was wonderfully original.
So we flitted from hill and dale banked with all kinds of wildflowers, paths pretty much all to ourselves, to theatrical diversions. Perfect high summer weather, until the last day, when the smoke from fires in Northern California shifted up and shrouded the valley in a brownish pall. It was visible all the way to Seattle on our flight back today.
We stretched it out this evening with some sushi at our favorite joint.