Tiny Bubbles

Just got through with a Phase II evaluation of an 18th Century site in Southern Maryland that was slightly less interesting than it should have been, but it was nice to get back outside for a while at least. Unfortunately, my second unit was done directly in a large patch of poison ivy, and minute blisters have cropped up all over my arms and fingers, and the swelling around my eyes is just going down as I type. Of course, I couldn't resist the urge to rip all of those little blisters off, and now my fingers look like cute little mauled pig carcasses hanging from meat locker hooks. And I can't touch Janine until they're healed. I'm a little chagrined.