Santa Fe Post Script

Dinner at Cafe Pasquals. Great food, but the place seemed pretty damn pretentious. Maybe we were getting a weird vibe from the owner because Cody name dropped to get us a reservation. He had just bought wine from Derek and asked him about a good dinner spot. Derek said, "Cafe Pasqual's, tell them Derek sent you." So, Cody did. The owner was none too impressed when she found out we had just met Derek 15 minutes earlier. If she spit in our food, I couldn't tell. It was delicious.

On a totally separate and completely unrelated note, how freaking high does a urinal really need to be? I almost pissed in the sink and washed my hands in the urinal.

One final note. There are no pictures of our day at Ten Thousand Waves, and that is for good reason. WAY too many old, naked guys. Seriously, nothing wrong with being naked, but to quote Cody, "a little modesty goes a long way." We don't need to be sitting in the hot tub, with you, creepy, washed up massage therapist to the stars, sitting on the edge of the tub with your legs s p r e a d open. Nor do we need to watch you, old guy about to have a heart attack, as you rearrange the deck furniture in your birthday suit. Again, nudity is fine, but this ain't a nudist colony, why are you milling around in the nude? Walk with a purpose, get where you are going, or grab a towel for your stroll.

Otherwise, the cold plunge, foot soak, relaxation room, massages and salt glows were unequaled. 4.5 out of 5 stars for TTW. The half-star miss is because of the sausage party that broke out at the communal pool. Seriously, a bunch of naked guys passed their prime should hang out in one of the men's pool, and leave us others to soak without having to divert our eyes.

Santa Fe

We went to Santa Fe (New Mexico, for the geographically challenged) for a mini-vacation with our friends Cody and Mary Ann. We let them show us around because A) they have been there several times before and B) we're lazy. They were great tour guides and I'd hire them again. They work cheap. Anyway, this typing stuff is exhausting, show some pictures will ya?

Outside our haunted room in Chimayo. Oh wait, that was the room next door. Thanks for the scare Cody. We slept like shit that night.

Senior photos relived!

Dinner at the Hacienda. Would someone keep those damn kids quiet?

The Sanctuario de Chimayo, and the holy dirt.

Judi loves gift shops.

Tecolote in Santa Fe had amazing breakfast. The green chile biscuits were amazing.





The oldest church in the country! Ok, I can't back that up, but it was beautiful.

France? Nope, beautiful courtyard winery and restaurant in the Plaza. We got cut off here. I think that was my first time.

The river walk statues. Nice form, Jeff.

Nice catch!So, this is the miraculous staircase. The story goes that the church was hurting for money and had an incomplete staircase to get to the choir balcony. One night, a mysterious carpenter (Jesus perhaps?) came into the church (breaking and entering) and finished this elaborate staircase (trespassing) in one night using only a small hammer, a nail file, and some bent spikes. He left in the morning before breakast biscuits were put on the table, and lo and behold the miraculous staircase was the only evidence that he was there (that and the plate of cookies and glass of milk on the mantel were empty). At least that was the story before we entered the church.

...After paying the wallet-scraping entrance fee of $3 per person, we learned through the voice of James Earl Jones over a loud speaker (ok, maybe not Darth Vader himself, but a damn good wannabe) that an unknown carpenter answered a plea from the church to finish the staircase. He was there for 6 months, had his own basic tools, and was quite the charmer in town. Once his project was finished, he left town without being paid. Several years later, the church commissioned another carpenter to build a bannister for the unsafe spiral staircase. And reality set in.

That's all for now.