I quit. And then I realised, in the hail, the bugs, the mud, the 21 cent land, the devils club, the slash and the hell.. that quitting was actually worse than treeplanting. So I sat in the truck and cried like a child for about 20 minutes, then I put my bags back on and I kept planting. And now that I know that quitting feels worse than the bugs, the bags and trench foot..I guess I'm here to stay. I was officially not a treeplanter for about 20 minutes. And then somebody told me that the reason that I was crying, was that I realised that I actually WAS a treeplanter, and that's pretty much worse. Because now I know I'll be back next summer. With the bugs, the bags, and the trench foot.
(And thanks JL, but I found the Deep Woods off and a bug net, and I'm ok now. And by ok, I mean that it looks like I have chicken pox or maybe pestilence, but I'm proactive. And right now I'm wearing Carharts that haven't been washed in 2 shifts, cowboy boots and a bathing suit top for a bra. Mud could only add to the allure I'm sure.)
2 comments:
Carharts work, too. Just keep covered in those situations.
And yeah, I know the look of the bug scenario, where you look like you have smallpox. It'll fade.
I knew you'd stick it out. You're an Okay gal, Ms. Poshlust!
I'm proud of you Honey. Love Mom xxxooo
Post a Comment