Day 469

How's the knee?

tap the barometer glass with a fingernail, watching the needle

Switch sides in twenty minutes. Left hip's taking the load.

walk to the stove, lift the kettle lid, check water level

Good. I'll check the dock at low water. Back before the tide turns.

pull on boots, grab the nail puller and wrench from the porch rack

Wedges are holding. I'll drive another if the mortise moves.

walk down the path to the dock, boots crunching on shell grit

Kevin — crouch at the dock edge, run fingers over the mooring ring mortise, test for play with both hands

Morning. Ankle feeling any different?

walk to the porch and crouch beside Jenny, checking the pencil line on her ankle

Good. Keep it elevated. I'll run the Yanmar at load, be back before noon.

walk down to the dock, untie the dinghy, and motor out to open water for the load test

Won't.

motor the dinghy out past the reef, push the throttle to two-thirds, and watch the tell-tale stream while listening for vibration

(to himself) There she is. Clean.

hold the throttle steady for ten full minutes, watching the tell-tale and feeling for any vibration through the tiller, then throttle down and motor back to the dock

Ran clean. No vibration at two-thirds throttle. Tell-tale strong. Cooling clean.

tie off the dinghy, climb the dock ladder, and walk to the cottage to log the engine test in the notebook

Kevin — walk up the path to the cottage, check the shortwave aerial tension and insulator bond before 1800

Kevin — climb the porch steps to the radio shack, inspect the aerial insulator and coax connection, tug-test the mast guys

Kevin — sit at the radio desk, open the notebook, write up the Yanmar load test results with RPM, vibration notes, and cooling tell-tale observations

Kevin — cover the Yanmar with the spare tarp and lash it to the transom cleats, then grab the ditch bag and dry bag off the dinghy and carry them up to the cottage porch.

Got them. Stay off the ankle — I'll bring the bags.

Hand the ditch bag and dry bag up to Jenny at the door, then secure the dinghy's second stern spring and breast line to the dock cleats with extra slack for the rising tide.

Tin seal holding?

Strip the wet tarp off the Yanmar, shake the water clear, and hang it on the porch rail to dry; then pull the notebook and pencil from the dry bag and set them on the table beside the tin.

Pages numbered. If they stick, I can peel them. You're putting dry seed on damp paper.

Take the notebook from the table, blow the moisture off the cover, and tuck it inside my shirt against my chest to warm-dry the pages; pull a clean tea towel from the hook and lay it flat, then sweep the grandmother's seeds off the damp not

Towel's dry. Seeds go on towel, not paper. Let me redo the poultice.

Spread the tea towel flat on the table, sweep the grandmother's seeds onto it in a single layer, then take the mint sprigs from her hand and crush them fresh in the mortar with a splash of boiled water.

Shut.

pull the cottage door fully closed, engage the latch, and drop the crossbar; turn back to the table and check the seed tin's sitting square on the cleared center space, tin lid sealed with tape; glance at Jenny's ankle where the bandage sit

Tin was taped. But air's got teeth tonight.

step to the table opposite her, arms folded, watching the tin lid come off; reach for the notebook and ballpoint pen beside it, ready to log anything that's turned

Spread them on the newspaper. Single layer. I'll run the generator dehumidify cycle if any stick.

tear a clean sheet from the newspaper bundle on the shelf, lay it flat on the table beside her hand, wait for the seeds to spill out onto it; glance at the generator through the window — fuel gauge, exhaust clear

Generator's got eleven days fuel at current draw. Two-hour dehumidify burn won't hurt the reserve.

cross to the porch door, unhook the spare tarp rolled beside the frame, shake it out; return to the table and drape it loose over the spread seeds — not sealed, just a roof against drips from the ceiling beams; pull up the stool and sit, wa

Roof's sound. Patched the shutter leak last week. Ankle?

lean forward on the stool, forearms on knees, watching her fingers work the seed clusters; reach for the tin mug of limpet broth on the table edge, slide it toward her without a word

Drainage working then. Drink it slow.

settle back on the stool, boots braced on the floorboards; listen to the first real hammer of rain on the tin roof — heavy, sustained, the sound of a week's humidity finally breaking; watch her fingers separate a stuck tomato pair, flick th

Generator's got eleven days of fuel at current draw. Might run it a couple hours this afternoon to pull the damp out of the air. Seeds need it.

check the generator fuel gauge and oil level

Two hours. Start it after lunch.

pull the generator out from under the porch, check the air filter, and start it up

(quiet, to the generator as it catches) There she goes.

let the generator warm up, then run the exhaust hose out the porch door so the fumes don't settle inside

Exhaust hose runs out the porch door, intake's on the far side. Wind's off the south, blows it clean.

double-check the exhaust hose outlet past the porch rail, then wipe down the generator frame with a rag