Winter Wonderland

I haven't posted in a while.  It isn't for lack of time or events to write about; I've just been lazy and neglectful.  Guilty.  In penance, I should most likely write a fabulous post, full of detailed stories and colorful pictures.  We'll see what you get:

Snow.  It started snowing last Sunday morning.  I was almost to work at seven when I saw the first flakes drifting down to the earth.  I parked in one of the covered lots and made my way to my assigned floor, throwing myself into the flurry of activity that is the first few hours of any day on a hospital floor.  Get report, look up more information in the computer, prioritize patient care, touch base with the CNA, pick up my first patient's medications from the med room, see each patient (while trying not to be side tracked too much by each patient's needs before I can get in and see the other people, but still remember their needs for follow-up), give out medications, follow up on pain medications, re-medicating if necessary, paging the doctor for any concerns, coordinating with the various other disciplines and auxiliary services of the hospital for the day's care, so on and so forth.  Hopefully, by ten, I can sit down and try to remember everything that happened so I can document it in the computer.  In any case, at some point during this chaotic whirlwind of activity, I noticed that the whole campus had become blanketed in snow.  James called to tell me that they'd cancelled church that morning, and every room I went in seemed to have the news playing, going into great detail about the weather conditions.  Although getting home was a bit of a drama, I managed it.  I then shrugged off this whole snow thing, chalking this up to Portland's annual winter scare - all bluff and bluster.  I would bus into work tomorrow and then things would be back to wet as usual.

Perhaps I should explain my pre-conceived notions of snow.  Growing up in Texas meant that it snowed once, maybe twice, each winter - usually in January or February.  The whole metroplex would shut down for a few days while it thawed, turned to ice, and then melted away.  Now, when I say it snowed once, I mean one snow fall, not one week or one period of snow fall.  Once the snow ceased to fall from the sky, that was your quota for the year.  What you saw was what you got, until it melted.  Upon moving to Portland, with its wetter-but-otherwise-similarily-temperate-winters, I was never forced to change my opinions.  Of course as children, we made the most of our snow days, being young, resilient, and liberated from school.  It's very different when you work at a hospital and still have to go in to work on a snow day.  At least the hospital was warm and I could stay indoors for twelve hours at a stretch.  In any case, imagine my surprise when I awoke Wednesday morning to find, not wet streets and drizzling rain, but another white blanket of snow.  Huh.

Since Wednesday, there has been at least a light snowfall each day.  I thought things might be calming down as of yesterday, had James not told me of the weather report: lots of snow this weekend.  Woke up to a fresh dusting this morning and thought about just staying in the house all day, but James wanted to adventure, so out we went.  (Now, that's not to imply that James forced me out of the house . . . he bribed me with promises of Grand Central Bakery breakfast and hot chocolate.)  So we bundled up and thought for a brief moment about walking the 1.6 miles to Multnomah Village, but somewhere between our door and the end of the parking lot, we decided to just try and drive the car.  After several futile, and probably comical to any observers  watching from a warm window, attempts to get our car up a slight hill and onto the main road, we opted instead to break out the snow chains rather than either walk or retreat back to our apartment.  We got the chains on and that's all I'm going to say about that wonderful experience.  We went to breakfast, then made several stops for some last minute Christmas shopping, got something for lunch, and made our way home.  Throughout the day, a steady stream of dry, powdery snow drifted down into our eyes and onto our car.  Every time we drove to another destination, we had to both brush the car off and scrape the windows (as heating up the interior melted the snow and re-froze before we got back to the car).  

I don't intend for this to sound as if I've been complaining all week long.  Several times while coming home, I've found myself giggling with glee at the opportunity to catch snowflakes on my tongue, or falling up to my knees in drifted snow.  If it wasn't so cold and wet afterwards, snow would be really fun.  As it is, my toes are thawing, the heater is on, and I'm happy for a warm cat in my lap as we watch the snow continuing to fall onto our long-dead herb garden on the back porch.

So, there you go.  A lovely post about the snow.  Oh, and you wanted pictures, too...

Winter Wonderland

One of our munchkin neighbors, bundled up for the snow.

Fluff post

*Grab the nearest book.

*Open the book to page 56.

*Find the fifth sentence.

*Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

*Don't dig for your favorite book, the cool book, or the intellectual one: pick the CLOSEST.

"So he sat down on the stone in the middle of the stream, and sang another verse of his song, while he wondered what to do."

Any guesses as to what the first book I grabbed was?

Hallowe'en Adventures

Mom and I took Oscar to the Pumpkin Patch on Sauvie's Island yesterday.  He had a lot of fun climbing the giant hay stack and looking at the animals in the barn.  Then we got some local produce and had a bite to eat, by which point we were all tuckered out!  What fun!

A couple of pumpkin-heads.

Oscar emerges victorious from the tunnels under the haystack.

Lots of fun with "up" and "down".

They look like Uncle Jared's chickens, but one goes "cock-a-doodle-doo!"

Playing sure makes a kid hungry.  

When will Aunt Kristina get back with that food?!

Meanwhile, in the Work-a-day world...

James had a lot of fun with his co-workers today.  I'll let the picture speak for itself.  (And before you make any snotty "there's no green Wiggle!" comment, just remember that we don't have kids and assembled the costumes with very little research.  Then we were too lazy to go out and buy a purple shirt.)

The Wiggles: Jeff, Greg, Murray, and Anthony

The Wiggles 2: James, Patrick, Juan Diego, and Jon

Their cheerful, harmonized singing is what gets them through the day with a smile.

Bargain Hunting

Whoa.

We decided to go the the semi-monthly REI garage sale yesterday, an event at which they sell off all the stuff that's been returned in the last two months (or I suppose is still left over from the previous sale).  Unlike The Basement at the HQ store in Seattle (we had a lot of fun Bargain Hunting with Holly and Nathan a few weeks ago during our trip to the Emerald City), here in P-town they just save it up and have one mad sale.  Fortunately, we were warned about the hard core shoppers who camp out overnight for prime location in line.  Unfortunately, we're not hard core and just showed up at 6:30 am Saturday morning, a mere hour and a half before doors open.  The line had already rounded 3 1/2 sides of the city-block building.  I made a scout trip to hunt and gather some hot beverages and pastries, and then we waited in the cold autumn morning for things to Happen.  At 7:45, the line started to compress due to the hard-cores at the front stowing their tents and gear.  Then the line began it's slow lock-step forward.  Since it's a crowded place, they only let a certain number of people in at a time, so it was closer to 10 am before we actually got our mitts on the goods.  Our goal: winter gear for commuter biking.

You might be surprised at the stuff REI shoppers will return.  REI has a great return policy and will take practically anything back for practically any reason.  I found a pair of toddler Crocs, obviously worn for several months, with the reason "too small" attached to the return tag.  Well, what a surprise!  Your kid wears a pair of shoes for a few months and the shoes suddenly shrink!  Must've put them in the dryer.  :)

Also, there were reasons like "small hole in pocket" (totally snagged that $100 water-proof jacket for $40), and "didn't like the fit" (several items).  We got practically everything we need for warm, dry biking through the winter months, including a nice pair of clip-compatible biking shoes for me and a standing bike pump, at a quarter of what we would have paid for in the main store (even after you factor in the parking ticket on our windshield from getting so wrapped up in shopping that we forgot to plug the meter).  And after watching an OPB special on Coronary Artery Disease, I'm more motivated than ever to get my bike-freak on.  Also, it gives me street-cred with the other nurses.

So, famished and exhausted, we took our bulging bags of victory booty back to our car and went Thrift Shopping, because we just can't get enough!  Actually, James wanted to get some supplies for Halloween costumes for himself and some co-workers (if he pulls it off, I'll totally post pictures, but until then, mum's the word).  In the process, we found a gold-mine stash of Pub Med scrubs (local, high-end scrubs that retail for $30 an article), so I got four tops for a little over $10.  Score!

So, after a long day of bargain hunting, we went home to glory in (and wash) all our fabulous finds.  I just love a good bargain!

Kristina Ritzman, R.N.

That's right, I'm a Real Nurse.  I took the NCLEX licensing exam on Tuesday and, like every other graduate to take the test before me, was sure I'd failed.  

Without divulging any information about what was on the test (for they will hunt me down and strip me of my license if I even drop a hint), I should explain the nature of the test.  The test is anywhere between 75 and 265 questions.  Once you reach the "magical score" that determines that you are a safe nurse, the test shuts off.  Also, if you answer enough questions incorrectly to determine that your are dangerously unsafe, the test shuts off.  So you don't really know which unless you were totally ace-ing the test.

My test shut off after question 75.  Up to that point, I encountered many questions to which I hadn't a clue as to the correct answer.  Thus, I doubted my performance.

I drove home in a daze and curled up on the couch for a few hours until my visiting teacher Wendy came to take me out to lunch, as we had arranged the week before when she learned I would be taking the test of my life on Tuesday.  We went out to a nice restaurant, Seasons & Regions, and she contrived to distract me from useless worrying for an hour or so.

Then, back to fretting.  I checked the OSBN website a couple dozen times during the day, knowing full well that my license wouldn't show up the same day, but unable to do ought else.  It was during my haunting of the OSBN website that I came across the success of a classmate (you can look anybody up in the state of Oregon) who passed, one who was a total slacker throughout nursing school!  So, I felt a bit more confident.  If this clown could pass the NCLEX, so could I!

I woke up earlier than necessary the next morning and again checked the website.  And Glory Be, there was both my CNA license listed and my RN license!  Making me a bona fide Registered Nurse in the state of Oregon.

In retrospect, it's been a long four years (counting from when I decided to go to nursing school and got my CNA license), and I know I have much to learn in the upcoming months and year, but I'm glad to be over that particular hurdle, one that has been haunting me since I learned about it almost two years ago.

Up next: my ONC certification next year!

If you want to see my name in all it's registered glory, just type in "Ritzman" as the last name here.

Thank you everyone who has supported me or even just put up with me through this journey.  I love you all!

Pop, pop

Our freezer was full.  Full of frozen chicken, steak, sorbet, and last year's berries.  We didn't pick enough berries this year to replace them, and they weren't being accessed due to the brick-like form they had taken on over the last thirteen months.  Throw them out?  Never!  I hand-picked many of those berries myself, lovingly plucking the sun-ripened jewels from the thorny vine.  So, since I had no fresh berries with which to make my Second Annual Jam Batch, I thought I'd take a gamble on some forfeit and hopefully not frostbitten berries; creating some much needed room in our freezer at the same time.

So I thawed them.  A bag of raspberries and a bag of marion berries (a unique variety to the Northwest) brought me five cups after draining the juice/water.  Alas, the recipe called for six cups!  What's a girl to do?  I'm already pushing my luck with the soft thawed berries.  I considered my options: (1) drive to the store and pick up a pint of something, (2) bike to the store and pick up a pint of something (I promised James I would bike at least three times this week), or (3) *hallelujah!* I could go outside and pick some blackberries!  Blackberries are indigenous and ubiquitous here in the northwest, and there were at least a cup growing in my "front yard" (meaning, the parking lot of the apartment complex).

I totally washed them, don't worry.

Anyway, I made up the jam (have yet to clean the jam-splatters off the stovetop) and am now listening to the delightful *pop, pop* of the cooling jars as they seal, encasing the Various Berry '08 Jam (James suggested the name) for enjoyment throughout the year.

Brazil: heading home

Apologies for the delay in posting this; studying for the NCLEX has consumed my time since returning.  But that's another post...

James got up extra early (remember, we went to bed after midnight the night before, and out of principle I am not a morning person) and took a bus downtown to retrieve his old passport from the Consulate.  An hour or two after he left, I woke up to the sound of rain.  It had gotten cooler the previous evening, but we were secretly hoping that we would be able to visit the sun-drenched beach one last time before we flew back to the cool Northwest.  Well, the beaches were drenched, just not in sunshine.

We made an early trip to the grocery store so James could stock up on his favorite foods from Brazil, such as Guarana and grape Fanta sodas (the cane-sugar grape Fanta in Brazil is infinitely superior to the HFCS grape Fanta in the U.S., in spite of what the Corn Growers Association of America says), sandwich cookies, and bonbons to share with friends and fam.

We got back to the apartment and packed our things and then left them with our landlord so he could get our room cleaned for his next tenants, and went to do some last-minute shopping and get a bite to eat.  It being our last day (and our luggage already being stuffed) we refused to buy umbrellas, and instead just got a bit wet.  No worse than Portland in the fall, except that we didn't even have long sleeved shirts.  No worries, though.  We went back to a used-book store down the street, where I got a few children's books to practice my Portuguese, and James got some more advanced reading.  We also got some t-shirts and a good quality stitched Brazilian flag.  All nice, flat things that our almost-bursting suitcase could accommodate.  

Then we decided to splurge and go to Bob's Burgers, a Brazilian fast food chain reminiscent of its American cousins.  I say "splurge" because one can get a fairly filling lunch for two at one of the luncheonettes for under R$10, but it cost us about R$25 for two burgers (my chicken burger was good, but all dark meat), one medium fries, and two shakes.  Fast food is more of an American luxury there, and I think I'll stick to Brazilian luncheonettes on my next trip.  On the other hand, the service was way better than you get at McDonald's.

Translation: "Bob's. Brazilians like you enjoy it."

James ordering a meal.

The selection.  Expensive even after the currency exchange.

As we had no sun-drenched beach to relax upon, we decided to hop on a bus and get to the airport a bit early.  We figured that we could at least hole up someplace dry and watch movies on my laptop.  The airport is this big, concrete building that looks like it was built in a Communist nation during the Cold War Era.  We got checked in (which only took a little extra time, considering James's multiple passport problem) and after finding our gate (insanely easy, as there were only about four), we went in search of an outlet.  After much searching and a asking a nice security guard (who told us the Portuguese word for "electrical outlet"), we were directed to the ONLY public electrical outlet in the entire International Departures area of the airport.  Again, I think this place was built in the '50s, when nobody had laptops or cell phone chargers.  In any case, I went to plug in my laptop, and the outlet was so old and my surge-protector plug was so heavy that it just fell out the the socket.  Drat.  Fortunately, James was able to jury-rig a solution with some rubber bands, supplied by a friendly airline clerk.  So we watched movies until it was time to board our flight.

Ahh, ingenuity!

The flight from Rio to São Paulo, and then from São Paulo to Houston, was as comfortable as a nearly-full, 16-hour flight can be.  We made the best of it.  On the other hand, the flight from Houston to Portland had one empty seat, and it was next to us!  A guy stuck between two elderly people (okay, let me preface this with the fact that a senior citizen group had taken over at least a third of the plane to go to the casino near Lincoln City) wanted to move to it, but I pulled the whiny-witch-who's-been-traveling-for-18-hours-already card and he played the southern-Texan-gentleman card, stayed where he was and made polite conversation about his neighbor's grandkids while I stretched out and slept.  Score!  Also, this plane was equipped with electrical plugs at certain seats, and our semi-occupied row was the lucky winner.  Double score!

We had to claim our luggage in Houston for Customs.  

These are the ghosts of lost luggage past, forced to haunt the baggage claim forever.

So we arrived home to sunny skies (take that, Rio!) and a MAX waiting to shuttle us to our home-bound bus.  We were welcomed home by a very stressed kitty (who got over it after a few days).

Take me with you, next time!

Summed up: Best Vacation Ever.

Brazil: a day of fellowship

Today being Sunday, Felippe invited us to attend his ward, in the town of Itaboraí, about 50 km to the east of Rio.  We were going to just take the bus, but he and his father, Wilson, insisted on meeting us downtown and driving us over, about a 45 minute drive.  Today also being Brazil's Independence day, we saw many tanks and military police standing about, preparing for the Independence Day Demonstration (I didn't get to see it, so I don't know if it could qualify as a "parade").

Their ward had Relief Society/Priesthood first, so I went with Felippe's mother to RS.  As she didn't speak English and I didn't understand her Portuguese, all I could do was shake my head in apology and say "Eu não entendo."  After the lesson started, it was all moot.  The lesson, via my keen understanding of RS visual aides, was about food storage.  In Sunday School (in the "Escola por membros antigos" or "school for ancient members" - a.k.a. Gospel Doctrine) James translated much of what was being said.  We discussed the Saints in the Americas circa the birth of Christ.

The third hour was, of course, Sacrament Meeting, which took place in the beautiful and air conditioned (!!) chapel.  It being fast Sunday, James was kind and patient enough with me to give me the gist of most of the testimonies, with a line-by-line translation of Felippe's testimony.

We met many members, one of whom happened to be wearing one of James's old ties, handed from James to Felippe to Sérgio.  Good ol' missionary ties!  We also met the ward mission leader, Jorge, who was planning a baptism and asked us if we'd be willing to sing a hymn in English during the "waiting for the new member to get dried off" intermission.  As we didn't have an English hymnal, I quickly jotted down the words to "Lead Kindly Light" and we made out pretty well.  I only had to make up a couple of lines that I couldn't remember, and I don't think anyone noticed.

After the baptism, we piled into the back of Wilson's station wagon with Jorge and his wife, while Felippe rode shotgun to another member's house for a barbecue.  Also joining the party (but not in the car - it was already stuffed beyond seatbelt capacity) were Russell, an American, his wife Gabriella, a Brazilian, and our host, Fernando, and his wife and little girl, Cíntia and Maria Fernanda, and later Cíntia's sister, Lauren.  Quite a party for a little apartment! 

Most of the party at Fernando's house

We sat around the table feasting on all sorts of barbecued meat (pork, beef, chicken, linguiça sausage, and chicken hearts), rice, Brazilian pico de gallo, soda, and a unique (but good!) potato salad consisting of potatoes, carrots, mayo, green olives, and raisins.  I had more than two helpings (albeit small helpings).

Brazilian meat tastes so good!

The spread. The meat tricked in throughout the meal.

Silly boys.

But the coup de grace would have to be dessert.  Fernando threw some bananas on the grill, still in their peels, and Lauren then extracted the cooked fruit and sprinkled it with cinnamon-sugar before adding a scoop of vanilla ice cream with chocolate flakes.  Ambrosia!  I took a risk on appearing rude and accepted seconds.  Yum!

Sweet heaven.

We sat around Fernando and Cíntia's apartment, visiting and sharing stories from one until around 6:30 in the evening, when Jorge had to go to work, so Fernando took James, myself and Felippe to Felippe's house so that Wilson (who hadn't attended the barbecue) could drive us back into town.

We ended up not going immediately back into town, but were entertained by Felippe and his father for several hours.  We were given a tour of their very nice house, including a great fruit orchard (and a sick guard dog) and a coconut tree, which Wilson instructed Felippe to pick some coconuts from so they could treat us to the tasty liquid inside.  We visited (well, I mostly sat quietly and got the occasional interpretation, but that was fine) late into the night, until Felippe's mother Fatima came home with banana bread for all.  

Felippe handing off a coconut for drinking.

Felippe, Wilson, Fatima, me, James

As it was after ten by this point, Wilson offered to let us stay over, but since we hadn't brought our toothbrushes (or more importantly, James's contact case), we politely declined and then felt guilty as they all piled into the car with us for the hour drive back to our apartment, but Wilson insisted on driving us.  They dropped us off at around midnight, and then made their way back home, probably to wake up early the next day for work.  I'm honestly amazed and awed by the generosity and hospitality of these people, both Felippe's family, as well as Fernando's.  What a blessing to have met such good friends, even if we don't (as of yet) speak the same language!

A beautiful painting of the São Paulo temple hanging 

in the dining room of the Forte residence.

The closest temple to them is a six hour drive, which makes 

me feel guilty for not attending the Portland Temple as often.

Brazil: a day of crowds

Today we took another stab at the feiras, this time going to an antique market downtown.  This feira only happens once a month and bears a lot more semblance to the Pearl's First Thursday than the other tourist-trap kitch markets had been.  Within minutes, we found many original treasures that we would love to bring home, including my "souvenir earrings" that has been a tradition for me in my travels for many years.

Unfortunately, due to our skepticism, we had not brought any money with us beyond bus fare.  Thus began an hour long quest for an open ATM that would distribute international cash.  James referred to it as the Death March, and I gamely trudged along because I wanted those earrings!

The quest began with several Brazilians pointing James in several different directions (once, we were surrounded by at least half a dozen people, all talking at once and each pointing in a different direction).  In our journey, we passed by an open pub where a local patron, upon seeing James wearing the local Fútbol team jersey, the Flamengos, insisted on buying us beers.  We said we were in a hurry, so he ordered them "to-go" in plastic cups, so we were able to dispose of them around the corner (he was very insistent!).  After 45 minutes of walking in the Brazilian sun and about five ATMs, we got our cash and returned to the feira.

The Antiques Market

We saw the Lapa Arches on our Death March.  They used to be an aqueduct, 

now the trolley runs over them on its way to Santa Theresa

I not only got the earrings and matching necklace that I had originally spied, but also another pair of earrings carved from coconut, and James got an old wood carving of a village scene.  We saw many beautiful paintings, jewelry, antiques and crafts.  I'm sure Antiques Roadshow would have had a heyday here.  There was lots of gorgeous old hardwood furniture and marble sculptures, china and silver probably imported from Europe decades ago, and newer (and older) paintings of the Brazil countryside.  I began to regret that I'd brought such a small suitcase!

Beautiful sculpture

I liked this painting!  

What does one wear when one is washing their clothes?

Me in front of one of the jewelry booths.

Some of the jewelry at the shop I got my necklace and earrings.

Some beautiful paintings.

We arrived back to our apartment mid-afternoon and hurried to catch the remaining sun on the beach.  By this time, a strong wind had picked up on the coast, but that didn't deter us, or anyone else, it seems!  It being Saturday, the beach was very crowded, but we managed to find a clear spot to enjoy the sun and the waves. There was a group of about five "gangster-type" fellows sitting near us, also enjoying the day at the beach. One of them spent some time posing for photos taken by his buddy, possibly to post on his website and show what a stud he was. We were highly amused, mostly because his "tough guy" ensemble composed of a bucket hat and a pair of sagging capri jeans. Appropriate maybe for Rio gangstas, but I don't think it would have quite the same effect in NoPo.

Too cool for long pants.

The waves were more wild and aggressive than I had seen in previous days, so we just stayed on the beach.  At one point a large crowd gathered, looking out into the sea.  A beach vendor explained that someone had gotten caught out in the ocean and a couple of young men were bringing him in.  All the more reason to stay in our lawn chairs and enjoy the sun and breeze.  We did watch to make sure the kid (he was probably 16) was okay when he arrived back on shore.  Exhausted, and maybe a bit sheepish, but he was breathing just fine.

Some guys in black speedos watching the rescue effort.  

You can see the rescuers in the water between the two kids on the left.

Fun at the beach!  Those are my coconut souvenir earrings.

After things started to cool down sufficiently to warrant leaving the beautiful beach, we returned to the apartment to change before dinner.  And there were bugs in our room!  Now, don't get me wrong; I expected bugs when I came to Brazil.  I brought a large bottle of bug repellant.  But this was the first sign of domestic bugs that I had seen in almost a week.  And they looked like termites.  So we double checked the wood carving that James had bought (and then put it in the fridge to avoid contamination), and informed our landlord of the problem.

Then we went out for dinner (ham and cheese roll and açaí!) and dessert.  We saw more of the bugs on the outside of the dessert counter of the cafe, so James asked about it, and the lady said that they come out in this kind of weather (cool and windy) and that they're really harmless; not the "devour your house" kind of termites.  We were relieved (although, I think we forgot to reassure our landlord . . . oh well) and ordered a couple of sweets.  Upon eating mine, I remembered James telling me how Brazilians like their desserts small and super sweet.  Too sweet!  I couldn't finish my jelly roll.  I think in the future, I'll stick with cookies, which I know are good!

Ham + cheese + bread = Yum!  

Think  really good, handmade Hot Pocket.

Açaí!

Brazil: a day of markets

Today we went to the local street markets, or feiras.  The first market, the Centro Comercial, was surprisingly lame.  A lot of black market electronics (I saw a "Sony PolyStation"), clothing and media.  We did get one or two things, but it wasn't really the souvenir market we had anticipated.  It was also super crowded and easy to get lost in.  So we decided to go by another market, but first we wanted to see the Nossa Senhora da Candelária Catholic Church.

I gotta say - Brazilians know how to do Catholic right!  Nothing against USA Catholics (of which I am related to not a few), but when you combine statues like the Christo Redentor statue we saw Monday, the conical church from Tuesday's adventure, and this, I'm thoroughly impressed:

The main dome.

I was entranced by this angel - what nobility.

Beautiful.

They literally had a roll of red carpet by the door, 

to "roll out" when dignitaries visited, I suppose.

The view from the door.

The other feira, the Feira Nordestina, was little better but each shop seemed to sell the same stuff.  We did manage to get stuff for our mamas.  One thing that cracked me up was this statue outside the feira of a guy named Lampião playing the accordion.  According to James, this guy was Brazil's version of Billy the Kid, or maybe Bonnie and Clyde, since he apparently roamed the countryside in a lawless manner with his wife, Maria Bonita.  Also, the accordion is apparently a much more dignified instrument in Brazil - visualize a statue of Billy the Kid playing the guitar or harmonica, I suppose.

Me and Lampião

These were very nice painted dolls, 

but there were at least a thousand of them at this market.

The jersey I wouldn't let James buy.

We got pretty hungry shopping, so we stopped and had some carne de sol (grilled, sun dried meat - moister than jerky) and aipim frita (fried cassava root).  Pretty darned good!  While we were eating, I was tempted to light up a cigarette, but then I saw this ad, which put me straight:

Check out the diseased gums.  

Their Surgeon General is much more hard core than ours!  

Yum!

We took a break from shopping to check out a nice park with some interesting flora and get a view of the Maracanã stadium, one of the largest stadiums in the world, seating over 200,000 people.  I was tired, so we only saw it from afar, and then went home to rest and change. 

This was a crazy tree with giant pods that apparently 

would pop open and reveal beautiful flowers.

The aforementioned flowers.  

They look like they have an under-bite.

This was as close to the Maracanã as we got (me sitting on the lawn).

Here's a better picture of the Maracanã, 

taken from the hill Corcovado (on Monday)

That evening, we decided to take one last shot at shopping for the day, but by the time we arrived (around 7 pm), they were all closing shop.  On the upside, we did catch the tail end of a big outdoor used book sale nearby.  James got the book Olga, which was the base for the Brazilian movie of the same name, about a Jewish German during WWII who escaped to Brazil and became involved in the revolution there.  Good movie; I hope he enjoys the book.

Our lunch reserves had run out, so we got dinner, whereat James introduced me to . . . açaí . . . mmmmm!  Açaí is a fruit from Brazil that is just making it's debut here in the states, but the way they serve it is unique.  Think smoothie meets sorbet.  It's softer than sorbet, but they serve it in a big bowl, with granola on the side.  We shared a big bowl of the heavenly nectar and a ham and cheese roll and called it good.  (We didn't have our camera with us at this point, so I'll get pictures later in the week.)

We then decided we needed at least one taste of the Rio night life in the famous Lapa district. We had been warned to leave any valuables at home, so no pictures, sorry.  We did get to hear some nice samba music, though.  We wandered around the streets for a bit, and James heard some nice music coming from a crowded restaurant.  As we were still full from the açaí, we sat down and just had two guaranas, much to the irritation of the server (he still opened and poured our sodas per Brazilian food service protocol, but he did so in a very terse manner). They charged us a cover charge to listen to the band, so I don't feel bad about not ordering food.

Oh, and good news!!  When we got home, James had gotten an email from the US Consulate saying that his passport had been turned it!  So we'll pick it up Monday morning before we fly out.  It's not valid anymore, since he was issued a new temporary one on Tuesday, but he was really bummed about not having all the stamps from various trips, including his mission.  Oh, and the visa!