Wow. WOW. The woman behind Plain Layne can really write: "I remember walking along that sugar cane field like it was earlier today, skirting its knife-edged emerald fringe in the moist torrid heat. Everything was plastered to me with sweat -- hair, clothes, dirt. Even my backpack was soaked. Jungle-coated mountains were slicing open the bellies of clouds and I could smell the unmistakeable odor of a diesel-powered cane grinder, all smoky exhaust and sweet aroma."

I've decided to use Plain Layne as my starting point for blogspace exploration (why not? gotta start somewhere, right?)