We woke up sore.

Really, really sore. Sore enough to question how good our friendship was, and if massages were acceptable. Not yet.

“No post today… What’d you guys do?” NOTHING.

But the great thing about living in a cave is the stretches you can do against the walls. And ceiling. And floors, and windows, and everywhere rocky because it all feels like the ground. Which led to ten minutes of absolute absurdity as we ached to stretch the correct aching muscles.

We questioned the appropriateness of uploading these photos… But then decided there is nothing less sexy that these pictures or the tan lines in them.

Exhausted. I can play mountain climber for about four hours, but that is IT. Thank god Adam’s thoughts of horseback riding and then taking motorcycles and a bottle of wine up the cliff for the sunset didn’t pan out (not kidding).

There are a lot of bugs here. A lot of flies, and a lot of bees. Always around us. I like to think the food must be fresher here, thus the surplus of bees. We talk often about the Bee-to-Mouth ratio.

But here’s the thing, I’m exhausted. So this monologue happened at lunch today as poor Andrea watched me crack up to the point of tears.

I’m going to write a children’s book about a bee named Humblebee. He’s going to have a shy friend named Mumblebee, and they’ll go on adventures.

And then, if it’s a series, they’ll have more friends. Like that hot mess friend? She’ll be Jumblebee.

And of course, don’t forget their depressing emo friend Numblebee.

There will be the clumsy twins Tumblebee and Fumblebee…

The cook will be Crumblebee, and that one with digestive issues?

Rumblebee!

Yep. That’s where I’m at, kinda a Dumblebee.