Heavy boots.

My eyes burn from today's all consuming pre-planting weeping session in lover's arms and my fingers smell like pizza and fresh basil that said lover and I shared just one hour ago. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Time is slip sliding away through knobbly, hopeless, jittering fingers and after aforementioned crying fit this afternoon, I realized that there is nothing I can do but just go. I have been waiting to just go since the first hint of light poured upon the new year. Six months of waiting. Good bye last year, you were dark as hell. Six months and counting marks the waiting period behind the decision to leave and now the time has come: I am leaving for 'tree camp' as Andrew laughingly calls it in a few days. Boots, knife, tent, sheet, mat, khaki, tights, socks, etc. Things are packed, labeled, and tucked away inside one of one million ziploc bags that take up majority of my space. Today I took two very logical men with me to the boot store to pick out the right pair of planting boots (I felt like a blind person in a library) and together we whittled down our million dollar options until we were all satisfied that I was signing my feet (and credit card) away for the lightest, cutest (hardly), supportive pair of tree planting boots money could buy. Thanks Mike and Thom, you are good to me. I silently tested Thom's love by forcing him to accompany me around town while I broke in my boots. He was a great sport, I on the other hand, cowered behind trees and post boxes anytime I received a questionable stare. The time is nigh.