Lips Slickery With Balm

Days Walking - 35

Gah! I got an email from my brother tonight, out of the blue. He wants a postcard. I didn’t even know he was reading the blog… I haven’t heard from him in over a year, so it was kind of odd.

We had a falling out a few years ago, and it’s been a while since we spoke. I guess during this trip is as good a time as any to start up a dialogue again. I guess. I'll tell you guys the whole story one day.

It was just a really odd moment, I’d come inside after helping Adrian and Gabe rebuild their shelter (part of it collapsed, and for once I had nothing to do with a mishap.) and booted up, connected, listening to the wind blow and the group joking around, and poof, Brother Email.

Anywhoo…

Caroline took the time to drop me an email and ask about the medical status of the group. I know that I’m bad about just talking about the things that go wrong, injuries but not remedies, etc. I'll try to provide the beginnings and endings of health escapades, from now on.

Gabe’s lips have healed up nicely, by the way. He was very careful with tending them, and we three girls harassed him endlessly, guaranteeing that his lips were always slickery with balm.

Kwame and Church are finally over their colds, and surprisingly, none of the rest of us caught their bugs. The fact that only the two of them got sick makes me wonder how they managed to share germs with one another, but no one else. Macking? Perhaps… But if so, they are very adept at keeping their actions secret. Plus, I think Church would tell me, she’s very open.

I just noticed something - My first thought always jumps to ‘Macking’. I guess it’s because I’m a big fan of kissing, and it shows. I can make out with a boyfriend for a good half an hour, with no intention of going any further. It’s just so nice. Warm and close and immediate. It takes a while for my poor men to learn that often, kissing just means kissing, even if our mouths are open.

Snog snog snog snog snog -
OK I’m ready for the leftover Chinese now!
Mmm Moo goo gai pan

My ankle is and has been all better for a while now, it gives me a surprise twinge like once every couple of days. Mebbe it’s trying to tell me something. Mebbe something is about to happen at that moment, somewhere in the world, and my wrenched ligaments are a portent. Nothing useful, of course. No lottery numbers…

“Somewhere, someone is eating a peanut butter, jelly, and cucumber sandwich! Alert!”

Twinge!

Oh - Caeled’s fungus issue was clearing up, then he lapsed in his vigilance shall we say, and he’s had a relapse. He’s a goofus. How itchy-burny down below does the man have to get before he takes care of the problem?

Litany Webb, signing off

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