Rumors of my being marooned in a hell-scape hotter than satan's fiery rectum are correct, or were. I've escaped, unless this is one of those Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge things, in which case I think I prefer my current delusional state.
Still toiling away on my field notes, and some other stuff. And it snowed here, albeit briefly. Yes, that's the sad little charcoal eyes and onion nose there. We were out of carrots.