There will be no pics posted for reasons that will become apparant.
Right now, I’m a solid 2 on the Richter scale of jungle beauty.
My expensive gel manicure chipped after a few days and I am now one of those women I have previously showered with scorn and withering contempt – the ones with ugly chipped nail polish on their fingernails – at least mine don’t have daisies or sparkles on them. Least of my worries! My silk sarong (you all know the staple of my wardrobe) is faded and torn, the circulation of serviceable dresses, suitable for Manuel Labor, is looking extremely tired (and no, that is not some handsome Mexican man with a handlebar moustache). Time for a new frock, but I have no time for a new frock.
Makeup is a thing of the past – it might stay on for half an hour at most before it joins the rivulets of sweat streaming down my face. I dare not even THINK of applying some of my signature hot pink lipstick lest the gesture be misinterpreted by some of the workmen – I have already had to beat one off with a stick (though why truly baffles me). Hair is plastered to my forehead a la Norman Gunstan, an obscure Aussie comedian.
Body odor I have managed to keep at bay. When we have flowing water I can shower. When we don’t have water, I have perfected the art of squandering 2 cups of bottled drinking water – one for the soap and one to rinse. My daily extravagance is a small spritz of Aqua de Palma, a gift from my daughter before I left civilization. It is really just enough for an occasional waft to remind myself that I am in fact a woman. I have to make it last.
Body tone is rapidly diminishing. I thought I would get a lot of exercise here – dashing up those stairs several times a day with mucho gusto, but I am moving at the speed of a three toed sloth. In between pathetic little bursts of painting or sanding, I spend a lot of time sitting – I have a favorite chair with a view of the beach and a few gasps of breeze – but when I get up I have to remind myself to check that my dress isn’t stuck to my wet bum or squished between my butt cheeks. So unladylike!
My face feels puffy and swollen from lack of sleep, some fingernails are broken so far back that they are painful and my heels feel like sandpaper in the middle of the night.
My dad once told me I have a pretty smile. It is fading.
Hugs from the jungle…Margot.