keep on keepin´ on

It´s about time I go now.

The farm has been so much more than (and not just more than but different, something else and beyond) any grouping of words I can manage to find up in the realms of me noggin. So I spare me the effort and you the difficulty required to comprehend whatever I might manage to come up with.

He came, he dug holes, he ate a tomato.

The first day I arrived I planted a small row of tomatoes among and jungle of weeds and purple and green spotted, striped, wrinkly lettuces. I never got to eat these tomatoes, as they died, but as the months crawled and sweated on, more were planted (and replanted and re-replanted and so on) and now that I`ve eaten these (small Mexican sweet delicious variety), I feel a completion of sorts.

Time to go then he says. Time to see what´s up down south before the cold´s hairy white fingers clutch bonely the southern tip of the Americas, reining down snow and ice and winter. Got me a new sleeping sack and all, ready for a fist fight or a brawl. Let´s go cold.

Frankly this heat up here in Mendoza is too much but the freak thunderstorms we´ve had make up for some of it. Regardless it´s down south with Robin and Brux and Eleanor. Down till we can´t bajar no more.

So last chance for burrito slash monetary donations being sent to the farm. After two weeks then on I´m technically lost, uncharted, what have you.

I gotta get my mouse some travelling pants.