Santa Fe

The Plaza Cafe
Complete with salty waitresses, busboys with gold teeth who did not speak English, gorgeous pies, to-die-for New Mexican dishes, and famous customers.

The Needle’s Eye
Textiles extraordinaire, friendly staff who helped plan your projects, special needlework tools, magnificent button collection, and great place to hang out.

Celebrations
Cafe on Canyon Road owned by a woman named Sylvia.  Best grilled cheese sandwich on sourdough bread with bacon and avocado and red chili for dipping.

Simply Santa Fe
Totally chic-chic and nothing simple about it.  Way gaudy clothes that cost more than my first car.  Incredible shirts made from vintage tablecloths.  Ideas galore.

Soap Opera
Carefully tended by the woman who used to be at the moccasin shop.  Marvelous cedar scents, creamy soaps, Kisu for desert chapped lips, patchouli and sandalwood oils.  Free sniffs.

Breakfast is always fun at the Hacienda Nicholas.  After a quiet evening in my room sorting out the time zone issues and adjusting to sleeping without 3 cats and 1 doggie — I was ready for the crowded throngs!  And the group gathered was most interesting!

A wannabe cowboy from Kentucky, decked out in hat (had he not seen the John Wayne movies where hats come off in the house?), colorful vest, appropriately worn looking boots, concho belt and a little dish towel for an apron.  He was the resident innkeeper for the morning and a stiff Sam Elliott look-alike if there ever was one.  He offered a good history of Santa Fe along with blueberry French toast.

Next is a Russian ballerino who is in town to star in the Nutcracker at the theatre just up the road from the Hacienda.  Notice I said “ballerinO”.  I think that’s boy for ballerinA.  He kept switching languages during the meal, first sounding German, then Russian, and then making polite responses in French.  Go figure!  He could not eat all of his breakfast because he announced that he had to go ‘jump around’ in a couple of hours!  I just laughed and told him that the worst that could happen would be that his tutu would have bulges.  Uh oh.  I think I said something wrong, because …

At the next table was an Army Chaplain and his lovely wife.  Their heads certainly popped up when I mentioned the bulging tutu.  Well — that is NOT what I intended, and they should comprendo!

So, I certainly had a lovely time, being flirtatious and loquacious and bodacious.  And then I returned to my room to get ready for the day’s adventures … only to discover that I had been wearing my sweater backwards.  My life is over.  I cannot be seen at breakfast tomorrow!