Donuts and coffee with Dad. We headed downtown to the Denver Public Library to pull some photos for his upcoming book, but had to stop for some coffee (and a donut) on our way down. I almost didn't order one, but I couldn't help myself. It reminds me of our Saturday visits to "Henderson's" growing up. If we didn't go with him, he wouldn't bring one home for us and even when we went, we could only choose a chocolate or glazed. I always wanted the "jelly filled" kind and only got it the one time Grandad Dell came with us and my dad didn't want to tell me "no" in front of him. :) It is a treasured memory of childhood. It is even better that my kids got to experience Henderson's before it closed. Oh, I can smell the Henderson donuts right now as I type this, and Mrs. Henderson crankily sitting at the back office while she bossed her workers around. I also remember the old man with the amputated arm that would come in and sit at the very last seat at the "bar"...he was a little scary to a kid, but was a fixture there. We would then see him hop back on his bike and ride home. He had a orange flag on the bike, like we had as kids.
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