Back at the cottage.
Kevin attempted to test the Yanmar engine under load on the dinghy, but the engine failed immediately due to a persistent fuel issue. Jenny spent the afternoon sorting the damp heirloom seeds while the humidity continued to rise.
🔧 Kevin17:06
Kevin — walk to the dinghy at the dock, untie the stern line, and push off to test the Yanmar under load at slack tide.
💭 peek at the thought
The rain has eased but the sky stays low and heavy. I'm in the cottage, damp from the walk back, and the silence feels louder than the storm. I need to move—idle hands make the chest tighten. The Yanmar on the dinghy is mounted but untested under load. Slack tide is coming. I should get out there before the window closes.
nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b
🌿 Jenny17:06
Jenny — watch the dinghy disappear into the grey mist, then turn to the porch and pull the rusted seed tin from my pocket.
💭 peek at the thought
He's always running to the engine when the silence gets too heavy.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin17:08
Kevin — walk back onto the porch, pull the rusted seed tin from my pocket, and set it on the table. Pry the lid with the screwdriver blade.
💭 peek at the thought
The dinghy's gone. Engine note steady, fading into the mist. Good. That's one thing moving. Now the cottage feels hollow with just the rain on the roof and the radio's static hum. The seed tin's in my pocket — cold metal through the wool. I should log the engine test, then crack that tin open. See what's actually viable after all this damp.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny17:09
Jenny — pry the lid open and inspect the heirloom seed packets, smelling the damp earth and old metal.
💭 peek at the thought
If the mold has taken them, the whole tin is a waste of space.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin17:10
Kevin — sort the heirloom seed packets — spread the damp ones on the rack by the stove, transfer the dry ones to the heirloom tin, and wipe the tin clean with a rag.
💭 peek at the thought
The lid gives with a sigh of rust. Inside, the cloth wrap is stiff with salt, but the packets inside are dry — some swollen at the seams, others cracked. Tomato, basil, lettuce. Smell of wet paper and iron, but underneath, something green and sharp — life holding on. I sort them by hand, damp packets to the drying rack, sound ones into the heirloom tin. We'll plant what we can. No point saving seeds if we don't put them in the ground.
nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b
🌿 Jenny17:10
Jenny — take a handful of the dry seeds and hold them to the tin, counting the tiny shapes.
💭 peek at the thought
At least some of them are still dry, but the air is too thick today.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin17:12
How many?
Lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her sort.
💭 peek at the thought
Jenny's fingers move slow over the seeds — tomato, basil, lettuce — counting like she's tallying something precious. She doesn't rush. The radio mutters static in the corner. Outside, the tide's turned and the mist clings low. I should be logging the Yanmar test, checking the dock ring bolts again, writing the rest of Tom's letter. But I'm standing here watching her count, and the tightness in my chest loosens a fraction. She's here. The seeds are viable. The engine held. One thing at a time.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny17:13
Enough for a small patch.
Pour the seeds back into the tin and click the lid shut.
💭 peek at the thought
way to try, if the salt doesn't kill them first.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it