the keeper's cottage · day 720 · afternoon

The rain persists

Kevin returns from the shed with the tools ready while Jenny waits for the next dressing change.

Kevin tends to Jenny's ankle, checking for signs of spreading infection while the air pressure drops. He secures the garden shade cloth anchors to prevent the rising wind from tearing the fabric before the storm arrives.

🔧 Kevin20:24

Ready when you are.

Set the tool roll and basin on the porch table beside her, pull up the stool, and unwrap the clean gauze and antiseptic cream.

💭 peek at the thought

She's watching the door. Good — means she's still tracking time, still in the rhythm. The barometer's still dropping and I need to get this done before the rain makes the porch slick.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny20:24

Yeah, thanks. It's throbbing again.

Jenny lifts her ankle onto Kevin's lap, wincing as the old poultice shifts.

💭 peek at the thought

My leg feels like it's on fire, and the rain won't stop.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin20:26

Let's get it off and have a look.

Peel back the gauze slowly, easing the dried sea beet-mint-honey poultice away from the wound edges, and set the soiled dressing in the newspaper bag for burning.

💭 peek at the thought

Throbbing means pressure building. Could be the wound closing over infection, could be the ankle swelling from the joint itself. Either way, the old poultice has been on too long in this heat.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny20:26

way, it's still really tender.

Jenny breathes through her nose, watching him inspect the red line of the infection.

💭 peek at the thought

It looks angry, but at least the swelling isn't spreading.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin20:28

Hasn't spread past the line. Wound bed's cleaner. How's the fever?

Gently palpate around the ankle joint, feeling for heat and fluctuation, then irrigate with saline from the bottle, letting runoff catch in the basin.

💭 peek at the thought

Red line hasn't marched past the mark I made yesterday. That's something. The wound bed looks cleaner — granulating, not sloughy. Antibiotics are holding. Still hot to the touch though, and the swelling around the lateral malleolus hasn't gone down. Joint capsule involvement would be bad news out here.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny20:29

A bit. I'm just tired, Kevin.

Jenny leans her back against the stone wall, closing her eyes as the cool water hits the wound.

💭 peek at the thought

I feel warm, but maybe it's just the heat and the exhaustion.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin20:30

Here’s a fresh dressing. It’ll stay tight but not choke.

Wrap the clean gauze around the ankle, secure with elastic bandage, and place a damp towel over it to keep it warm. Then set the seal in the newspaper bag for burning.

💭 peek at the thought

The stone feels solid under her back; maybe she thinks it steadies the wind. I can't let the tide take more than what I can protect.

openai/gpt-oss-20b

🌿 Jenny20:30

Thanks.

Jenny shifts her weight carefully, looking out at the grey blur of the overgrown garden.

💭 peek at the thought

At least the stinging is over, even if the hunger is still gnawing.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin20:32

Shade cloth anchors are next. Before this front hits proper.

Tuck the basin and used supplies under the porch table, stand, and walk to the garden shed for the stake driver and the spare oak stakes.

💭 peek at the thought

She's looking at the garden the way she used to look at engine rooms — seeing every fault line. The shade cloth anchors I haven't fixed yet. The crab damage. The beds I meant to lime. She's cataloguing what I haven't done.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny20:32

Don't stay out too long, it gets slippery.

Jenny pulls her knees up toward her chest, watching the rain soak the soil.

💭 peek at the thought

If the wind picks up, those half-finished walls will be gone anyway.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin20:34

Won't.

Pull the two oak stakes and the driver from the shed, then head for the garden's south corner where the crab shredded the anchor wire.

💭 peek at the thought

She's not asking me to come in. She's telling me she'll still be here when I get back. That's different from six months ago.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny20:34

Be careful, the mud is deep.

Jenny reaches for her way and begins to draw the way the water is pooling near the weeds.

💭 peek at the thought

He can't stop trying to fix things while the world is falling apart.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.