Fences & Ascots

The King's Compound, Old Caribee

Fellow Historics:

The King has found refuge in his compound in the Olde Caribee for quite some time now.  The winter's wind does no longer thrill the King.  Rather he yearns for the tropical latitudes.

The sap is arising and the end to all that is finally at hand.  To quote dear Geoffrey:

Engendred Flour

Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open eye-
(So priketh hem Nature in hir corages);
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;

(Ah, the middle tongue.  Why shan't we bring it back?)

The King has returned to his throne in the Historic Core, albeit it for a limited term.  Ready this week-end to perform his annual Spring ritual: the Burning of the Ascots!


The Squiress' Fence

Alas, it seems the political sap is rising in the Ancient Citte and may cause ruin to the moment. 

You see the ruffians beyond the Gulf in dirty old Eastport-ville have issues on their hands.  All sorts of issues.  Propelling this is a pedestrian plastic fence, built by a squiress in accordance with the law.  Yet the fiendish 'Porters have an objection.  A number of objections actually.

It's ugly they say.  Without merit or purpose.  Improper procedurally.  And the paper work was forged.  And then notarized!  (What is a good controversy without the involvement of a forger or two?)



A 'Porter Criminal Behind a Fence

 The fence will undoubtedly create crime they say.  The same way sidewalks, streets and parks do since criminals use them as well in Eastport.

Their Alderman even got involved.  Confused about his role, he led a band of misfits to abuse the poor squiress. Called five police cars.  Then denied it all.

Poor Mayor Cohen was then forced to enter stage right, meeting with all those aggrieved and binding their wounds.

Ho-hum.

A Winter Ascot to be Burned

The only fence the King advocates for Eastport is one at the east end of the bridge.  To keep them out of our Core.  Especially away from our exclusive and reverential ceremony this Saturn-day when we Historics burn our now fecund winter ascots. 

All while sipping sherry with dear Harvey and Josie.

Bully! 

Keep the 'Porters out and away.  Out of sight is out of mind.  Just relocate the blasted fence to the business end of that foolish bridge.  (I knew the General Assembly should never had let us build that thing in 1870.)

We will all be better off.

Baden Baden: The Cure & A Countess

Ah, but now my mind now wanders toward taking the cure in Baden Baden with the Countess.  And frolics in Venezia soon thereafter.

Historics, even though my sojourns may move me afar, my heart is with you. 

And I ask you, please, only use fences to keep the 'Porters from us.

King of George