No balls, no walls.

Just exhaustion. Sheer, unbelievable, unshakable exhaustion that is slowly but surely grinding me into the mud. BUT, it's for 3 more days. I can do that.

8 days and Counting.

Like most of my life lately, this blog will have to be fast, dirty and probably shallow. Har har. It's a treeplanting reference. Shallow trees.. *sigh*

I'm 8 days away from being done. Which alternately feels just as long as if we were at the start of the season, and surprisingly short. I've been out here for 3 months now. I'll have to actually type up some good blogs that tell you what the hell I've actually been doing like - learning to appreciate Ballantynes in the morning, learning why people don't wear thongs out here, getting leaches in strange and startling places, being pulled out of a bog by a New Zealander..

I wish I had more time to tell you.. it's been so much better. Ok. It hasn't. But it's been bearable and I've taken a lot of Motrin today. And the rain stopped. Which vastly improves just about anything. Oh. Except for the peeling blistering mess on my back. Which brings me to a new lesson- It's not just the bugs you need to worry about when planting topless. No, it's the sun too. Mom, thanks for the SPF 60, my nipples are happy. My back.. not so much. Balls to the wall they say - I'm almost done.