I could live in Hillcrest. Susan says I would not like the frequent planes booming overhead but I would find a way to compromise on that issue. On my first visit I felt some element had changed and the universe had shifted into a more sensible arrangement. The streets of Hillcrest are clean, litter is nonexistent and the houses and shops are painted in bold colors. Gardens are everywhere- all things have reached their artistic and most eye-pleasing potential here. A creative funk hangs over the place and it is apparent intelligent people reside here. Poetry readings are posted everywhere, book shops touting Hemingway and Capote, eclectic art galleries, places of intelligent consumerism. Hillcrest is a homosexual community and there is an acceptance and integrity in the lifestyle and I could cartwheel down he middle of the street in polka dot underwear and everyone will applaud and ask for more.
We have breakfast at the Crest cafe, a favorite of mine and I love the pale pink walls, rainbow lighting and paintings of dogs and children on the walls.
We check out the farmers' market and sample blood oranges, oily pestos and Carlsbad strawberries, big as plums and they melt in your mouth like thick mushy pudding. I buy silver earrings and Susan picks up pale pink Fuji apples for her neighbor. I did pass on the mango salad served in the sea urchin bowl, see below. The band is playing xylophone/ washboard Louisiana beans and dirty rice kind of music and Hillcrest is just a versatile wholesome place to be.
1 comment:
DAWN!!!! How could you say such a thing. Dubuque has made you the person you are today.
:-)
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