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Country Folk


Sun, Dec 10th, 2000
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Monday, December 4, 2000

My wife, Deb, and I recently went on a business trip to Breckenridge, Colorado. We had never been there before and didnt really know what to expect. Prior to the trip, I would not have guessed that food would provide some of the main memories of the four-day adventure.

The airline whetted our appetites by promising us food on the flight and then changing their minds. We arrived famished in Denver. We stopped at the "Mountain Lyon Caf" in a little town west of Denver. I am usually wary of places that purposely misspell their own names. Perhaps they think that if a customer will overlook a blatant misspelling on the sign on the roof, then maybe he will overlook the fly in the soup and the mountain "lyon" hair in the milk glass. I should not have worried. The food was good, the service was friendly, and the forage was substantial for a very reasonable six bucks. We left the caf feeling stuffed and pleased with ourselves for being such good judges of restaurants.

Later that same day, if you can imagine this, we got hungry again. By this time we had met up with the rest of our group from North Dakota, Nebraska, and the western side of Colorado. A more congenial and hungry bunch of down home farm folk had rarely gathered in such an expensive setting. We discussed various dining options. Our leader, a Colorado rascal who goes by the name of Maylon, spotted a "two-fer" deal in the local paper.

"Look here, folks," he yelled, "theres a two-for-one deal on suppers tonight at the Alpine Caf right here in downtown Breckenridge. That sounds good. Lets do it." And so we did. After all, our earlier experience at the Mountain Lyon was successful, so why not try again.

The eight of us piled into our cars and headed the few blocks to the Alpine Caf. It was in a small building in the middle of town. It was cold and dark so we hustled right in the door. A young man led us through the almost empty downstairs bar and eating area. We followed him up a flight of steps to where he seated us at a table in a large, otherwise vacant room.

Another young man with an earring in each ear introduced himself as Mike and smilingly welcomed us to the Alpine. He assured us that we were in for a dining delight and told us how the menu changed with the seasons and that we were fortunate to be trying out a menu that had been created by the chef within the last five weeks. I was expecting one of those massive photo-fill .....
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Hoffman Stables

Its a BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD, feeling

Sun, Dec 10th, 2000
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Monday, December 4, 2000

Every once in a blue moon my computer will react strongly to some illegal operation I have performed and give me an output that reads: BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD. Its a total unsettling feeling.

Unfortunat ..... 
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Sun, Dec 10th, 2000
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Sun, Dec 10th, 2000
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Sun, Dec 10th, 2000
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Sun, Dec 10th, 2000
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Monday, December 11, 2000

Sun, Dec 10th, 2000
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There were no Letters to the Editor on Monday, December 11, 2000


There were no Letters to the Editor on Monday, December 11, 2000


Dorothy Willmarth

Sun, Dec 10th, 2000
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Dorothy Willmarth, 85, a retired Spring Valley High School custodian, died Tuesday, November 28, 2000, in Maple Manor Nursing Home.

Dorothy Denny was born December 1, 1914, in Minneapolis. She married Hugh Willmarth in Spring Valley on Novem ..... 
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Bruce A. Skarstad

Sun, Dec 10th, 2000
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Bruce Skarstad, 81, of Arleta, CA, formerly of Peterson, died at his home November 23, 2000.

He was born July 22, 1919, in Peterson, to Dr. N.A. and Bertha (Thompson) Skarstad. He was a Rushford High School graduate, a WW II U.S. Army veteran ..... 
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