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60 to 60: Eat the Treat

I don't know how it happened. At the counter, while trying not to drool over just-baked croissants and muffins and genuine macrons, I ordered a mix of fresh berries and a crepe. Waiting for our order, I silently congratulate myself on making such a healthy choice. Good job, Lor. (I'm working on losing some COVID pounds that mysteriously appeared and then stuck around. I feel better when I'm lighter.)

I sip my hearty French roast coffee and look around. We've discovered Mille, a French place several blocks from the busy Plaza of Santa Fe, New Mexico. The owners are both former scientists we learn, one of whom worked at Los Alamos National Laboratory in wave physics. Whatever that is. The couple wanted something different and started a French grocery store and now, this bustling aromatic bakery/cafe.

I love that. Way to pivot! It's never too late to chase after a dream.

The sweet-faced waitress delivers our meals to the very-French, very-small round table. She places this plate of enormous piles of whipped cream with chocolate sauce dribbled all over it in front of me. Now, I'm instantly six years old inside. WHAT? I can have dessert for breakfast? Cool.

However, I'm also, as you know by now, close to turning 60. I think, should I be embarrassed by this? Look at that nice healthy quiche and salad Jay got. Sheesh. Perhaps I should tell the waitress the kitchen made a mistake.

Nah. I can act both 6 and 60 and enjoy every bite of my "fresh berries and a crepe."


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