The Village Baker

VillageBaker

372 E Main St *  Ashland  OR 97520 * (541) 482-4087 * www.artisan-bakers.com

It took an ambulance to get me to The Village Baker, but I didn’t get TAKEN there by an ambulance, which will make sense in a minute.

My perambulating journey to this business began in the motel room where the infamous Stacey Marie and I were resting. We were making a pit stop on the long drive to pick up Astrid, and after shouting ourselves hoarse to ‘Hair Nation’, were ready to hit the sack. Ha.

Due to a nagging cough, after two weeks of sleep deprivation I decided now was the time to take a surprising different pill my new doctor prescribed me in lieu of what I’d been given by my last doctor a ways before.  I put it off because I’m sensitive to some medication and am reluctant to try unfamiliar ones – FOR GOOD REASON, cue ominous music – but wanted to do the adult responsible thing and get a decent night’s sleep.To be a safer driver. HA.

” Got some bad news ” I informed Stacey before I was unable to swallow or speak.

” Should I call an ambulance?” Voice of Calm Stacey asked.

And that’s how I ended up standing in a motel room wondering how long it would take for an ambulance to arrive if I stopped breathing. Then I proceeded to swirl and spit water as if my life depended on it, probably because it did.

10 minutes and a gallon of water  later, here comes the west coast’s crankiest ambulance duo.  They sat me in the ambulance where my first thought was, ” Ooo! First ambulance ride.” Then they proceeded to act totally put out that I was actually sitting up and breathing.

” But you should’ve seen me 10 minutes ago! ” I apologized, then realized how absurd it was to feel bad for those guys  because I wasn’t turning blue. While taking vitals they took my water which I longingly pined after seeing how it had only totally saved my arse and begrudgingly offered me a lift.

I refused a ride with these curmudgeons but saint Stacey took me to the ER at midnight since for god’s sake, despite the dry heaving what if I’d swallowed or absorbed that satanic shit.  ER declared me fine but did say those types of medicines can be very dangerous, and Stacey revealed she’d read that particular doozy can be fatal if they open up in your mouth, which mine did. Awesome!

No sleep the rest of the night for some odd reason – what a perfect time to compose an all caps letter firing my doctor – and next morning we shook off the willies and tallied forth to seek pie. Thus The Village Baker.

NICEST BAKERY OWNER EVER. He chatted with us and woe onto him I spaced virtually everything he said, could it be due to leftover adrenaline from nearly kicking it the night before. I do remember that they bake a LOT of excellent goods, sell wholesale to various venues in the general area, and give away extra bread to feed the hungry. Freaking awesome people!! Faith in strangers restored!! I’m so glad we walked in there.  In homage here is a terrible picture of a wonderful person, complete with floating mini ambulances:

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The heavenly bread

 I was so wackadoo I walked out with a roasted red pepper loaf instead of a sweet treat.  That #$$**ing little pill apparently put me of all people off sweets.  In any case I’m happy to say the loaf was scrumptious and was eaten barbarian style, aka ripping chunks off by hand. Never came close to a knife. It was epic. Seriously, do yourself a friendly favor and when you’re visiting Ashland, hit up The Village Baker. 

Bonus ( for me ). Now that we’ve featured the saint above, I present my vengeance. There’s nothing quite like finding out your saviors are actually two Oscar the Grouches driving a fancy can.  Pie to the face!

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Ker-SPLAT!

 

 Safe and yummy travels to Ashland, ya’ll!

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Surfing and Strolling near The Village Baker

SURFING: I’m gonna call the surf break here, ‘Poison Wash’, counting gargling and spitting water for 45 minutes as surfing because heck,  that’s a lot of moving water. Preferably giving insanely bad chemicals a ride outta one’s mouth. Highly recommended surf break if you like a thrill.

STROLLING: We didn’t check out the surrounding parks and hills – oh they’re there! – but Stacey and I did walk the ‘straight shot’ to downtown and back from the motel which ended up being 6 miles.  Come to us for all your navigational needs.

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