Its Christmas Day breakfast with the cats I've watched over for the past couple of days. I noshed on cheese and cured sausage, while the cats got kibble and fresh water.
Al finally returned home after two weeks spent in the hospital since his cardiac arrest. His arm was in a sling while the wires of his implanted defibrillator were given time to heal firmly in place.
I had hoped for a New Mexican Christmas buffet with Barb, Al, and their family, but the gathering was rescheduled for the day I would be leaving Las Vegas. I settled for a tasty lunch of homemade Huevos Rancheros with Barb and Al.
I took a walk afterward, strolling a few miles around the neighborhood before stopping into Joey’s Tavern on Craig for a gin and tonic, and blow an obligatory ten spot on video poker, just to get it out of my system. That would be the closest I would get to a Las Vegas casino on this trip. That evening I pitched in and cobbled up a chunky spaghetti sauce for our Christmas dinner.
The next day Barb indulged my Chuck Taylor fetish and afforded me a ride to a Converse outlet store a few miles south of The Strip, where I scored some cheap, but stylish hi-tops. Lunch was carryout from Doña Maria Tamales on Tenaya. I had a pair of cheese tamales served enchilada-style, one doused in green sauce and the other in red.
Al’s homemade carrot cake highlighted dinner for my last evening in Las Vegas. Very moist but sweet, it shot my blood sugar up over the night. It was worth it.