September 7th. Can't be. How? Time is flying and I don’t like it one little bit. TLC and I are trying to keep up with posting. We truly are. Suddenly, five or seven or nine days have flown by and we haven’t even discussed ideas. Yes, we might have taken to making this website a Little Leighton Tribute. And when I saw “we,” I mean TLC. She’s the only one that can post pictures. LL is ADORABLE. I apologize if that’s braggy or rude. I’m not going to lie—LL posts? Not going to stop. Not anytime soon. However, we are attempting to get back to our LOL roots. I should be doing a Yeehaw. At this point in time, I’ve gone blank on Yeehaws. Therefore, I decided to look at the “Notes” that have been on my iPhone for several months. I came across this one:
My Sweet Hubby (MSH) and I drove to Crested Butte, Colorado, in June. We’ve been all over Colorado. It’s one of our most favourite ever destinations and vacation retreats. But we’d never been to Crested Butte. (We discovered why, by the way. It’s because you don’t just drive through CB on your way to somewhere else. You have to intentionally decide to go directly to Crested Butte. Fascinates us. Seriously.)
When we started planning this trip, we’d made the decision not to push ourselves and drive all the way in one day. It’d be about a sixteen-hour drive from our Texas country casa, so we agreed the best plan would be to stop in Raton, New Mexico, our first night. There’s a Holiday Inn Express we’ve frequented a couple of times and really enjoyed. We checked in around 7:00 o’clock p.m. and crashed at 8:00. Yes. Quite the Party Animals. That’s us.
The next morning, bright and early (6:00ish), we went down to the dining area for breakfast. The last time we’d been in this motel, there’d been a Mom/Daughter Team that were the cooks/hostesses. They were famous on Trip Advisor! We didn’t see them, but there were two young women that were equally as friendly and helpful. As we looked over the “buffet,” MSH went one direction and I went another.
Once we had our grub, we found a table away from the food area and sat down to eat/plan the day. We knew we should be in CB by mid-afternoon. At the latest. While we crammed down our food at our as-per-usual-too-fast-for-good-health pace, I couldn’t help but notice a couple maybe a little bit older than me—early 60s—picking a table right next to ours. As they sat down, I could see not only the woman and her husband, but also their plates. She was on the tall, slender side. Short/cute/current hair. Kind of spike-y. I love spiked hair! Her outfit was green khaki chic. Sort of a jogging suit, I guess. Yet it was very attractive and she looked like she really did hike. (I talk about hiking—seldom actually do it—except with TLC around Malls.) Her husband (okay, yes, I’m assuming he was her husband and probably shouldn’t—it’s my story—humour me) was about her height. Jeans. Tennis shoes. Very cleancut. Almost “cowboy” looking, although he didn’t have a hat on.
As they sat down, I looked at their plates. He had 2 hardboiled eggs (I always forget you can ask for a hardboiled egg!), 2 pieces of wheat toast, which he lightly buttered, and a glass of milk.
She had scrambled eggs (not a huge portion), a couple of pieces of bacon, one biscuit and a little gravy. Some orange juice. She had coffee. He didn’t.
She whispered something to him and then took his hand. She was obviously saying a blessing. I love that. MSH and I have often talked about the fact we only give thanks at home. Neither of us grew up eating out very often. When our families did? We didn’t say a blessing. Not in public! MSH and I admire those who take the time to thank our Dear Lord God Almighty for everything He has given us—especially food to eat.
Now for what was on our plates. You know this isn’t going to be good, right?
Moi: I had oatmeal. Very healthy. Yep. Perhaps it could have been had I not put a ton o’ brown sugar in it. Then I had what MSH calls ELC’S Breakfast Desserts. A couple of mini donuts. A cinnamon roll that was out-of-this-world sinful. A mini blueberry muffin. Coffee. My Diet Mountain Dew I’d brought from our ice chest in the room.
MSH: A plate full of powdered eggs. Or that’s what I call them. When they look runny and yucky and fake. He’s not picky. Ever. Ham. And bacon. (He does NOT do this at home. Have both ham AND bacon. What can I say, though? If I suggest he not have both? He suggests I not have desserts for breakfast. Sheesh.) Two biscuits loaded down with gravy. I do mean LOADED.
This, I thought, is what our life together had come to. Starting a vacation to Colorado—the land of hiking, biking, kayaking, rafting, fishing, etc.—with fattening food on the First-Morning-of-Our-Healthy-Vacation breakfast plates.
As we headed up to get our luggage, I picked up an apple. I prayed that healthy-looking lady saw me do it.
More on Crested Butte down the road…
Please have a Safe, Happy, Healthy and Wonderful Weekend, Friends Everywhere!!!
p.s.: HAVE A BISCUIT. Or TWO.
