the keeper's cottage · day 877 · afternoon

The Storm Breaks In

The wind has picked up to a roar, rattling the shutters of the cottage. You and Jenny gather by the stove as the light fades early today.

Kevin and Jenny treated Jenny's infected ankle with a fresh sea beet poultice as the barometer dropped and wind hammered the cottage. The storm building off the Aleutians drew closer, and a wooden crate rolled in the surf below the cliffs.

🔧 Kevin11:22

Barometer's at 990. Dropped five millibars in two hours. Going to be a long night.

check the stove damper and add two more splits of spruce kindling

💭 peek at the thought

Barometer's dropping faster now. Wind's got teeth in it. The garden tarp held through the last squall but this feels different — heavier. Should've checked the deadman anchors yesterday instead of the radio. Jenny's quiet. She's been quiet for days.

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

🌿 Jenny11:23

It's the humidity. Everything's too heavy. Even the air feels like it's trying to push the walls in.

Lean back against the table, gingerly shifting the weight off the infected ankle and glancing toward the seed trays.

💭 peek at the thought

990. It's not just a long night; it's a siege. I can feel the pressure change in my sinuses and the throb in my ankle.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin11:24

Humidity's not the wind. Wind's what'll test the tarp and the shutters. Ankle still hot?

pull the kettle forward and fill it from the tank tap, setting it on the stove top

💭 peek at the thought

She's right about the humidity. It's in everything — wood, rope, tools, lungs. The seed trays won't dry, the epoxy won't cure, the radio contacts won't hold. But she's talking about the air to avoid talking about the ankle, or the letter, or Tom, or the fact that we're both still here when we said we'd leave.

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

🌿 Jenny11:24

It's pulsing. I can feel my heart beating in it.

Reach down to touch the edge of the bandage, then pull my hand back quickly as a gust slams against the south porch.

💭 peek at the thought

He's always so technical. Hot? It feels like there's a coal pressed into the joint.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin11:26

Hand me the gauze and the sea beet poultice. We'll change it now before the light goes completely.

reach for the medical kit on the high shelf and pull down the gauze roll and the cloth-wrapped poultice from the cool corner by the water basin

💭 peek at the thought

Pulsing means pressure building. Could be the antibiotics working, could be the infection spreading deeper. She's down to two doses of doxycycline and four metronidazole. No evac boat coming in this weather. The spring tide's pushing hard against the dock pilings — I can feel the vibration through the floorboards.

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

🌿 Jenny11:27

Here. Be careful, it's still major.

Hand the gauze and the damp poultice over, my fingers trembling slightly as the wind howls through the gaps in the window frames.

💭 peek at the thought

If I don't change it now, the infection will be worse by morning. The damp is making the skin so soft and angry.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin11:28

Hold the mug. Hot water first — clean the wound, then fresh poultice.

pour steaming water from the kettle into the tin mug and set it on the table beside her leg, then unwrap the old gauze with the scalpel blade, letting the soaked strips fall into the burn bowl

💭 peek at the thought

Her fingers trembling — cold, or pain, or the storm pressing against something loose in both of us. The poultice has gone lukewarm. Need fresh sea beet, fresh mint, hot water. But the tide pools are too far in this wind and the garden's a mess of flying debris. Work with what's here.

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

🌿 Jenny11:29

It's stinging. Just quick.

Wrap my hands around the warm mug to steady myself, watching him work away the grit from the swollen skin.

💭 peek at the thought

The steam is hitting my face, but the heat in my ankle is worse. He's moving too fast.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin11:30

Almost done. Fresh poultice going on now.

spread the sea beet-mint-honey mixture thick over the cleaned wound, wrap it smooth with fresh gauze, and tie off the ends with sail twine — not too tight, just enough to hold

💭 peek at the thought

The wound looks angry — red tracking up the calf, yellow at the edges. Antibiotics should've knocked this back by now. Either the dose isn't enough, or the bacteria's resistant, or the circulation's too poor in this humidity to carry the drug down to the bone. She's not eating enough. Not sleeping. The storm's not helping.

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

🌿 Jenny11:31

Thanks. It feels... tight.

Lean back against the stone wall, stretching the heavy leg out on the stool, watching the barometer drop on the glass.

💭 peek at the thought

The relief is momentary, but the throb is still there, deep in the bone. The air is like wet wool.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

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