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  • Sometimes my dad and I like to pretend we are in Europe or on a cruise ship just for the afternoon. Friday was a cold day with an occasional appearance of spring sunlight. Just enough sun to need sunglasses and to shed one layer of clothing. The day was reminiscent of the sunny brisk days we used spend together as a family spring skiing. It was also almost two months to the day since my mom died and our hearts were still heavy. Thus we set out for one of our afternoon vacations agreeing to meet at an unnamed restaurant, unnamed because my dad couldn't remember the name of it. Slowly, I drove along France Avenue trying to guess which one he had in mind. He and my sister and his help would get there first and save me a place. Just like when we were on vacation the plans were loose and finding one another was as much an act of luck as really knowing the other person's taste. It would be enough to drive a more organized group nuts. Slowly, I drove the other way on France Avenue looking for a European eatery. Upscale shops and well kept women and children graced the side walks, indeed I felt out of my element. I spotted a small risorante, as they are called in that neighborhood, that fit the bill. Alas, I parked and hoofed it looking in windows in hopes of finding the crew. Despite finding the right digs he was not to be found. But somehow I wandered long enough to figure out where they would go if they didn't know where they were going. We ate and dreamed and talked and talked over root beers and tea with an ever watchful eye for a skier despite the closest real mountain being 900 miles away. We looked for mountains and landmarks that would prove we were in Europe. We found the Eiffel Tower and a Dutch Windmill and tables with umbrellas on the roof of the General Sports store in the picture. Take a good look.... Wish you were here, you would have laughed at our dumb luck.
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