What’s a radiology appointment without lunch at Cracker Barrel?

I speak from experience.  Thursday’s special is the Roast Turkey dinner.

Just sayin’.

Wednesday morning we drove 35 minutes north to discuss the next step in Banjo Man’s treatments.  He was reassured that two different cancerous zones could be treated, appointments were made starting on January 3rd (every day, Monday-Friday for seven weeks) and then it was time for a late lunch.

Those of you who know me know that I love lunch.  I really love lunch.  Lunch is the best meal of the day.  For me, anyway.  So any discussion that begins with, “Where should we go for lunch?” makes my heart sing.

After rejecting several other ideas, we settled on Cracker Barrel, only 2.8 miles away from Lifespan’s radiology facility.

I appreciated the decorations.

I love the country Christmas music.
And the mashed potatoes.

I had one more errand, which was to stop at Marshall’s and see if I could find another box of rhinestone octopus napkin rings.

Yes, such things exist and made Dr. Angela quite happy when I gave them to her Saturday night. I hadn’t been sure if that was too weird a gift so I only bought one box of four napkin rings and then, because I was still doubting my purchase, I used them on the dinner table to see if she would notice.

She did.  She swooned.  She loved them and happily took them home with her.

In my world you can never have enough of a good thing, so Banjo Man dropped me off at the door of Marshall’s and prepared to wait in the car and watch football you tube videos on his phone while I hunted for more sparkly octopus decorations to buy.

The first thing I spotted when I walked into the store was a display of furry yellow jackets. My size was there. I fell in love and had to try it on. A fellow shopper walked by and told me it looked great.  I thought I might have looked like J-Lo, but no.

 Into the cart it went.

On to napkin rings, with no success. Rhinestone trees, snowflakes, stars?  Absolutely.  Ocean creatures?  None to be seen.

Maybe next year.

I drifted over to the pots and pans aisle.  Banjo Man has the unfortunate tendency to burn pans, which means we buy lots of candles to counteract the odor and we stock up on pans.  I called him to ask him if he needed any pans and his response was an excited, “I’m coming in!”

He picked out a pot.  And then he waited by the cart while I went to the ladies room.  When I found him again he was busy sorting through two table of cashmere sweaters.

Banjo Man loves cashmere sweaters just as much as he loves new cooking pans.

After much debate he took two sweaters into the dressing room.  When he returned he didn’t have either sweater and he looked glum.

“They didn’t fit?”

“No,” he said.  “There was a lot of static cling and I looked like I’d swallowed a goat.”

And I looked like Big Bird.

We have banned ourselves from further shopping.  For now.