What?!

This post isn't about…well, no, it isn't about that….that which has done nothing but occupy my mind for the past (is it only?) 6 weeks.  This post is about how we went to lunch!

Yes, the kids were out of the house for the weekend thanks to the Salty Dog Crew and Peter felt it was time that we got out of the house and I got fresh air for something other than just doctor/massage appointments.  Now, I am still recovering from surgery, so I have cut myself a bit of slack and massively upped the napping, but I thought he had a pretty good point.

Note:  the weekend actually almost didn't happen as he planned.  As it goes with this whole 'disease' business, Wednesday through Friday were a bit off for me.  As much as I tried, I couldn't get that nasty radiation business out of my head.  Remember how I had the extra huge surgery to avoid that sort of thing?  Well, it's anything but on the table in my opinion (and, yes, I am well aware I can go through it…but at this point, I am not committing to it). 

We have decided we will have another meeting (tomorrow, in fact) with Mr. Radiation Oncologist (who will have by then been informed by several people that his previous attitude was not only less than stellar, but absolutely, positively inappropriate for anyone, much less newly diagnosed patients still in shock) and learn about my 'options'.  Do not worry, we are also attacking this meeting head-on in the most pro-active way we know how: I am having another massage/drainage session immediately prior to said appointment! 

So I spent a good two days in funk about this whole thing and just couldn't get out of it.  Then Friday night I took a long walk to the mailbox (exercise is important) and found a plethora of cards for me, including one from an entire group of people in an office where Peter theoretically (since he is transferred often) works.  I opened the card, and it was like a Hallmark (or cotton, your pick) commercial.  The next thing I knew, both Peter and I were in tears and it reminded me that the world had not ended.  I was so touched (as I am by everything that each and every one of you has done for us) and all of the sudden Life Was Good.

Now, aren't you glad I lied about not writing about that which I was not going to mention?  Well, I tried….

Since I woke up in a much better mood Saturday morning, we decided to tackle the Farmers' Market.  I lasted a whopping 15 minutes before something about it made me sad, so Peter cheered me up by finding the best cup of hot cocoa on the planet and sharing it with me (as well as pumpkin with candied pecan ice cream).  If you are curious as to the nutritional value of the ice cream, I couldn't tell you as the company refuses to share it.  The exact quote is:  "You don't want to know!"

Ice cream and hot cocoa do not a lunch though make.  Remembering that La Caraquena, an appropriately named Bolivian/Venezuelan cafe was not far away, we decided to share a few arepas for lunch.  As we went to sit down (carefully, of course), I turned, looked at the wall, and saw this sign.  My first thought:

How did they know about the handshake?  No one was around, other than the Ambassador, Chavez and his protective detail! 

A few minutes later, after reviewing the menu and ordering our fried yucca, dos arepas and one bowl of sopa per person (mani for me, frijoles for Peter), I happened to look up and see the rest of the items that were framed around the sign.

Oh.  They didn't mean Peter after all.  Given that it has been well over 8 years since we moved away from Caracalus*, where we lived for two years while he worked at the Ombassy, and also where  Caitlin drank copious amounts of mook-leggett (milk-leche), one would think the handshake would have been old news (though I bet our housekeeper at the time still brags about it…um, yes, we were on opposing political sides).  Still, I thought he had another 15 minutes coming….well, maybe after these pictures from our lunch!

*Yes, these are exact words from Cait's vocabulary at the time and I realized I must write about them before they are accidentally forgotten.

**If you are wondering, we highly, highly, highly recommend La Caraqueña.   If you try nothing else, have at least one arepa (we prefer grilled, but…) and the pabellon criollo is just as we remember…