Today, March 11, Leah turned 60. She can’t believe it, and neither can I. Apparently all the people I knew in their 60s when I was a kid were actually much, much older than 60. Say 95 or so. Because they didn’t look like Leah.

(I’m checking my memory. OK, right, they looked like they were 45 or 50 years older than me.)

Leah wanted to go out to lunch (and for the margaritas) to one of our regular Mexican restaurants, Los Portales, for huevos rancheros. Mexican food is not Leah’s favorite, unlike me, but she does like huevos rancheros. A lot.

Leah and the nearly finished margarita

We told the waitress it was Leah’s birthday, so after we finished our lunches, three of the staff sang “Happy Birthday” and brought out a sopapilla.

Taking a bite of sopapilla.I already had a bite. Or two.

Around here, sopapillas are made by frying a flour tortilla and then covering it with honey and cinnamon. In this case, they added chocolate and whipped cream. I prefer New Mexico sopapillas, but this one was good. Leah gave all three waitresses a “thank you” and a good hug. We really appreciated it.

At the rate Leah is aging, I think she’ll probably live to about 130. She says she doesn’t want to reach that age, but I hope I’m around to see it. I know where to find ranchera sauce, so I’ll make the huevos rancheros and the margaritas. Maybe I’ll practice it before her 130th.