Brunch

Jack and I had been wanting to go out to eat to celebrate my birthday, but we were having schedule conflicts. (Our birthdays and anniversary all take place between June 3 and June 13, which seemed like a good idea at the time, but makes it difficult to schedule three separate celebrations.) While I was researching what was available in Monument, the town to north of us, I came across the Mozaic Restaurant, and remembered seeing it on the side of the road going toward Palmer Lake.

I don’t normally do buffets, because it seems like too much food, but I do like brunch occasionally. Jack doesn’t like brunch, because he sees no point in getting up in the morning on a weekend unless he is going to play golf. However, since it was my birthday, he agreed to brunch this morning.

The Mozaic has a fabulous view of the Front Range, looking south toward Cheyenne Mountain. On the opposite side the hill slopes up to the Santa Fe trail and the red rock formations which common to the Palmer Divide area.

The dining room took full advantage of the view and had what our server called a water feature.  I would have called it a fountain, myself.

The food lives up to the setting, and there was, of course, too much of it. It had both breakfast and luncheon items, including sliced prime rib, Belgian waffles, and cooked to order omelettes. I had a hard time deciding what I liked best, though the salmon frittata and cheeze blintz were both very good. The bison short ribs were also excellent. Jack made a strategic error and got an omelette. This left him too full to try much from the luncheon selections.  Poor Jack.

Le Hobbit

As his winter project, Jack decided to catalog our books at LibraryThing. Not much to our surprise, we discovered that we have a lot of really odd books that had not yet been entered into the system.  However, we were surprised that our copy of BILBO LE HOBBIT had cover art which had not yet been uploaded to the system, despite some fifty editions of Tolkien’s book.  I bought that book when I was seventeen.  I have a vague memory that I bought it from a revolving rack in a Marseilles, France train station.  I was desperate for something to read, and figured that I knew the story well enough I could follow it with my rudimentary French.  I can still remember my astonishment when I discovered an English language bookstore my last day in Paris.  What a lost opportunity!