Religious Pilgrimage

The wife and I were ready to get back into action yesterday after the Saturday down day.  The most excellent family of my brother in law invited us down to Rhode Island for the Saint Mary’s Day Festival.  If you’re not Italian (very few Rhode Islanders are not), you, like me, probably never heard of this festival but it is a big deal in the Ocean State and a great excuse to get together once again with some truly remarkable people.

First I had to survive another of my wife’s vanity projects, namely - me.  She really enjoys dressing me up like a Panamanian even though I would never be mistaken for one, except in a heavily drugged nightmare.  When I rushed upstairs to get ready for church I found a neatly pressed “guayabera” shirt which is formal Panamanian attire.  I was trapped since there was not enough time to modify expectations.

Me, Masquerading as a Panamanian

The Panamanians do know how to dress for the heat and it was very comfortable, except for my wife telling me how distinguished I looked.  Well, maybe south of the border somewhere, but I’m a card carrying gringo for life.  She even insisted on taking a picture before I could divest myself of the church going attire.

 

While she prepared the food we were bringing to the party I discovered a treasure trove of beer left over from the party.  I thought the "kids" had disposed of every last drop but apparently had overlooked one of their own caches.  I jury rigged the basement refrigerator so it could accept the added population.  That should be the last of the clean up from the epic get together.  I'm still feeling bad for our rubbish man, who on Friday had to load an overflowing dumpster of the party trash that had been baking all week in the heat.  If I'm killed, add him to the suspect list.

My New Stash

The "Kids" at the Party - Newly Discovered Photo

The trip to Rhode Island started off a little dramatically as my wife was truly in the Panamanian mode and that meant, being late.  We were already a half hour late and I was steaming in the car when she finally showed up and declared she was going to go out and cut some of her flowers for the host of the party.  While this was a very nice gesture the twenty minutes required to do this had been timed out.  She grudgingly entered the car while pointing out several of my shortcomings.



The Party Scene

This continued for the entire ride down but entering the party house was enough to snuff out the feelings.  It’s impossible to stay angry when surrounded by such outstanding people.  A large percentage was at last week’s engagement party so there was a semi-faithful re-telling of some of the salient points of that evening.  Most of all it was a chance to sit around and enjoy the feeling of family.  We specifically forbid the curse lady from saying anything about the Red Sox although she probably did doom some poor lady to a life of caring for a developmentally challenged child, but I digress.

The Curse Lady Holding Court - Dispensing Justice

This was the same house I faced the most serious threat to the keto diet - a donut cake, a couple weeks ago.  Yesterday, in a move straight out of Clausewitz, they deployed another doomsday weapon - peanut butter blossom cookies.  I escaped by literally the skin of my teeth, although I think I dreamed about them last night.

Extreme Cruelty

Recharged with the good feelings any time spent around this family seems to transmit we were back home in time for the final Red Sox – Yankees game of the weekend.  It started out poorly, got much better, and then settled into a quagmire.  They were tied and extra innings loomed on a school night.  For some strange reason, I hung with them through some truly inept batting against the Yankee’s Triple-A team.  I was rewarded shortly before 1am with a Napoli bomb to center field for the win.  Impossible not to like this team.

Worth Staying Up For