Ashland, Ashland! Wherefore art thou so far from my homeland? When shall I ever see you again, and under what strange set of circumstances could it possibly pass that I am able to return to your streets? At the end of time when the Lord’s beloved all gather to the fullest of fullness, will it be in the courtyard where your three houses of magic converge? Or perhaps on the grasses of the parks surrounding you? In the sycamore grove? Will the dining room of the Winchester be transformed to accommodate the whole company of saints to dine on pear and mascarpone cheese filled crepes with champagne vanilla bean glaze and mimosas? Oh Ashland, surely I will never forget thee. Or how my heart swelled to the point of bursting twice with laughter and once with tears. I will always remember you with a soft sigh of longing.