The Second Thanksgiving

For the real Thanksgiving day, we wanted to spend time with Larry. We were invited to Angie's place for a small gathering. (Angie was a regular in the water aerobics class I taught over the summer in her building.) It was just us, Angie, Bruce and Robin, Bruce and Robin's landlords, and a lovely Argentine/German couple. And, supposedly, Larry, but he didn't show up! We called him, and he just said he wasn't coming. We were disappointed, and still unsure as to why, but we still had a great time.

Highlight: there were two sweet potato casseroles, but the one with the candied pecans on top was my favorite, and I could have lived on that for days. We ended up staying late that evening, speaking a mixture of English and Spanish, and reminiscing a bit about Argentina with the Argentinian half of the young couple.

The First Thanksgiving (this week)

With so many people to see and so much love to spread, one Thanksgiving just wasn't enough this year, so yesterday we got the Thanksgiving season started with a wonderful meal. Denise is house-sitting for a couple of months, so we had a fantastic location for the party.

I had my first taste of imported Turducken (a turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken). A little too much meat for me, what with so many mashed potatoes lying around. I made pecan pie bars, which are every bit as good as pecan pie except that you can eat them with your hands.

As always, lots to be thankful for.

My birthday's not over, and it hasn't even started yet.

Well played, Brent.

On Saturday, I was feeling good, so we were going to keep our plans to have an early birthday dinner with our friends at Lunarossa, a popular Italian restaurant that we still haven't managed to try.

On our way to the restaurant, Brent said he wanted to stop by Picasso for a drink. I grumbled, because I was already a bit headachey from being hungry (and only recently not being wiped-out sick), and we were just minutes away from the time we were supposed to meet Bruce and Robin at the restaurant. I mean, COME ON. A drink at Picasso never takes just a couple of minutes.

But, I'm a team player, so I got out of the car and followed Brent. As we passed the bar, Claire, our friend and owner of the restaurant, started saying something into the microphone. I looked up and realized everyone was looking at us. And they started singing Happy Birthday.

My first ever surprise party! And Brent managed to plan it all in a town where stories spread like wildfire!

All my favorite people were there, minus a few who couldn't make it. We had a great cake, which came with a story: the first cake Brent commissioned fell apart when Larry went to pick it up, so they had to scramble and get another one at the last minute. It also came with amaretto ice cream.

Not really the best meal to bring myself out of the last dredges of my illness, but I made it work.

It was a beautiful evening, so full of joy and love. I am a lucky girl to know these great people.

Road to recovery.

Yesterday, I woke up feeling quite a lot better. I started eating again, but I'm still taking lemon juice, cranberry juice, and colloidal silver. Today, I'm better yet, though not normal. We have long-held plans to meet some friends for dinner tonight, and it looks like I'm going to make it.

Testing my immune system.

On Saturday, when we were in Playa Venao, I started feeling sick. Really weak. Tired. And my back hurt like crazy.

We went on a walk, like we tend to do, and I couldn't even keep up with Brent. Everything just hurt.  I trudged along, determined to make it to the beach from our starting point in Pedasi. Luckily, a local offered us a ride into town shortly after we'd started back (after a break at a beachfront restaurant).

I had expected to feel better by day three, as these sorts of things tend to work their way through my body pretty quickly (go, immune system, go!), but when I wasn't, I went into full-on holistic self-healing.

Doctors are not really an option in my world. I mean, they're available and all, I just don't care to go to them. I think they're too quick to throw drugs at things your body will take care of on its own if you give it the space to do that. Emergency medicine -- now, that stuff is freaking incredible. But antibiotics? Thanks, no thanks.

At some point, I realized the terrible ache in my back wasn't my back at all -- it was inside. It was...my kidneys, perhaps. Without ever having had a kidney infection in my life, I figured that's what it had to be.

I started fasting on Tuesday, just drinking lots of water and lemon juice and pure cranberry. I'm taking colloidal silver at regular intervals and Vemma every night. And I'm trying not to move.

This, too, will pass. I believe in my body's ability to take care of this. But I do wish it would hurry up.

Birthday trip to Playa Venao.

With my birthday coming up, Brent continued the tradition of not buying me jewelry by taking me on a trip. (This totally works out in my favor, by the way -- I'll take the trip over the jewels any day.)

We've been hearing great things about Playa Venao, the surfer's hot spot near the town of Pedasi on the Azuero Peninsula. Brent planned the whole thing, which made it especially awesome.

It was about a four-hour drive -- easy, except for getting through the city of Las Tablas, because there aren't a lot of signs indicating where you should go -- and we arrived at our gorgeous hotel very near Playa Venao.

Brent picked out an incredible place. It was still a bit under construction, so there were men working and very few other guests, but it was really coming along. Our room was enormous, with two beds and lots of rustic, handmade wooden furniture. The room and the hotel grounds were full of intricate tile mosaics on the floors, walls, and benches. We had a charming balcony with a hammock and a view of the water.

They served food, but there was no real menu. They just rattled off a few things when we said we were hungry, and we made some choices.

The highlight was the many animals on the property: emus, chickens, iguanas, and even visiting monkeys and parrots high in the trees every morning and night.

We had direct access to a private beach (made private only because the rocks on each side sort of boxed it in), which was full of scuttling creatures (crabs, crabs, crabs) and beautiful smooth rocks. We found several keepers. Grandpa would have been proud.

We spent the weekend exploring the area, trying various restaurants and walking around Pedasi. (And getting sick. Oh, so sick. More on that soon.)

Bye, Ken and Karen!

Our good friends Ken and Karen have decided to move to Florida. We'll miss them! We always had a great time with them -- and when taking care of their two fantastic little dogs.

Brent and I with Karen at a pool party/potluck at their house.

Driving in Panama: Not really optional, but also not really advisable.

Our little beach town is spread out enough to very nearly require the use of a car. You could get by with just a bike, but not conveniently. I love walking, but you have to consider your final destination. Are you okay with showing up sweaty? No? Then you need a car.

Driving in Panama is one of those things you find a little hard to get used to. Why? This:

1. Blinkers seem to be optional.

2. Hazard lights, though, are in regular use, and usually indicate that the driver is about to do something inadvisable.

3. I have seen a car going backward up an on-ramp.

4. I have seen a car going backward on the shoulder of the Panamerican highway.

5. If someone tries to get quickly through a busy intersection, it's not unusual for the oncoming drivers to actually speed up and honk to punish them.

6. There are too many speed bumps, which makes driving incredibly uncomfortable and painfully slow on certain streets -- but then you realize how necessary they are when you're on a smooth street and you see people driving entirely too fast.

7. The city. That's another story entirely. I have not yet driven in the city and I don't want to, but I have served as co-pilot when Brent was driving, and I honestly don't know how anyone manages without a navigator. Brent was watching the traffic and I was looking for signs, landmarks, turns, cars coming from another direction, hazard lights, and more. It's really a two-person job, driving in the city.

8. There are not a lot of street signs. If you don't know where you're going, you can't count on help.

All this means that I avoid driving when I can. I walk to the yoga studio. The grocery store is on this side of the highway, so it's easy to drive there. In fact, most of what we do happens right here in town, so it's easy for me to go a few weeks without having to drive very far. Brent drives more than I do, but he doesn't mind it as much. And in the end, from grocery trips to city trips to across-the-country trips, we're super grateful to have a car.