Archive

Alright. I’ll leave it be then.

Be careful. The moisture is getting under the seal.

Be careful, it's still tender.

Almost got it. Just need to stake the far corner—grab that cedar wedge from the door hinge repair, it’ll hold in the soft soil.

A quiet turn — nothing said.

Good. I'll check the tarp on the garden while you are up there.

I know. I’ll put a through-bolt with a steel plate on the backside — like we did on the north piling. Distribute the load. It’ll hold.

Check the cleat twice. The tide is coming faster than the forecast.

Basin’s by the door. I’ll fill it now—just need to lift it.

(nothing — focus on the task, voice only if needed)

Check the corners first. That's where the moisture traps.

Be careful with the roots. If you go too deep, you'll slice the structure.

Check the filter. The silt gets in there every week.

Aye. Stand back—I'm putting in the doubler plate.

Be careful with the shutter, the wood is soft.

A quiet turn — nothing said.

Almost clear. Keep the leg up. I won't stop till it runs clean.

It needs to be clean. I need to see the red lines before they go higher.

(Pause, then soft) I’ll make it hold. But after… let’s sit in the shade. I’ll boil some limpets. You rest your ankle. We don’t have to fix anything right now.

Check the sleeve for scoring first. The salt air is doing hell to the metal.

Quiet — watch him walk away, then slowly bring the broth to my lips, staring at the open door.

I'll get them on the plate. Just need to drain the water first.

Alright. I’ll wait. Just point when you’re ready.

Aye. I'll sit. Just tell me when it's had enough.

Almost back. Just rounding the bend—keep the bowl steady, I'll be there in a minute.

"Aye. I’ll true the shaft first, then recheck the bracket." (I keep my voice low, not looking at her.)

Quiet — walk back to the cottage, moving slow to keep the strain off my back, and check on Jenny’s ankle before it gets dark.

Decades, at least. You see any lichen inside the grooves? Could tell us how long it’s been exposed.

Don't stay out too long.

Almost there. Give it another minute, then I'll hand you the way and tweezers.

Almost done. I’m not moving.

(nothing — just nod once, low and steady)

Almost done. Just securing it now.

(I don’t look at her leg. I keep my voice even.) After you finish, I’ll clean it with hot water. Then we’ll see.

Quiet — reach for my pencil to draw a new circle around the edge of the infection on my skin.

(reading) "You didn’t have to follow me into the water. You chose to. That’s the difference. Forty minutes in Biscay, and he thinks it was a choice." (pause, voice tight) He still thinks I let go. Lik

Boat's here. Dinghy's tied starboard side — help me fend her off the pilings while they come alongside.

Boat's coming. Wind's right for it.

Broth's on the stove if you want it. Going to check the ring one more time before dark.

Quiet — jenny pick up a single lettuce seed, turning it over between thumb and forefinger to inspect for any sign of decay.

Add the line. The better the later.

Don't be too long, the heat is peaking.

Aye. Next low tide I'll drive the greenheart sister. You stay off it.

Gap’s closed for now. But we need a sister on that piling—greenheart, through-bolts, before the next tide. I’ll get it ready after slack.

"Fine" and "tight" aren't the same thing. Hold still.

Done. Run the last strip under the ridge batten — I'll hammer the batten nails home while you feed it.

Don't over-torque them, the wood is probably soft under there.

(quieter) He didn't ask me to come. I just... went.

Eating. Just let the engine idle.

Check the sea beet leaves while you wait. They need salting.