Henriette came up with a hilarious Camino story but we will save it for last since I won’t be able to follow it with anything. Worth the wait though. But first I must fill you in on the continuing saga of my, my what? I’ve lost track of what I originally started to accomplish with all the interruptions and delays and holidays. Everything medically is still up in the air. I feel like I am getting a doctorate of anxiousness, yea a DA. Yea, Felipé Camino DA.

I should be running for the ferry to get to the Institute right now but not. The results of my blood test are not coming in on time and it will be January 6th, hopefully, when we will be able to see the results. So, I got another reprieve. That happens on New Year’s sometimes, the Governor issues a stay.

Really glad I am not the anxious type or this would drive me crazy, this waiting. But we have plenty of other things to drive us crazy right now so it will have to get in line. Yes, and the pandemic continues to ravage the landscape of our lives. But we bravely walk on trusting that things will work out. Sounds like what we do.

So off to Henriette’s story:

Okay, here’s one of my hold your sides laughing Camino tales: One night early on in our pilgrimage, I created quite a stir when, after lights out, in the pitch dark, I carefully counted five beds over in the snoring room, and climbed into the top bunk of a bed already occupied. There was a blood-curdling scream and awakened cries, and I couldn’t get down the ladder. “Mom, Mom!” yelled Katherine in English from across the room, immediately identifying us to the whole sleeping room as the American mother-daughter team, while a man awakened by the screams called out “¿Eh, Que paso? ¿Que paso?” ready to defend the honor of the screaming woman.

*PS. Katherine got the worst case of the giggles of her entire life, which didn’t help matters any.*

Oh, I can so just see it. Good tale Henriette!

Eh, Que paso loves, Felipé.