the keeper's cottage · day 448 · morning

Morning Day 448

The warm rain continues in a steady drizzle as the tide reaches the high mark. The air is heavy with salt and damp wood.

Kevin attempted to center-drill the transom bronze sleeve at slack tide. Jenny redressed her ankle and organized the seed tin for planting.

🔧 Kevin07:07

Kevin — step onto the porch and lean against the doorframe, watching the tide lap the dock planks

💭 peek at the thought

Water's right up to the dock planks. Good cover for the transom work at 0530 — slack tide means I can get the come-along on her without fighting current. But this rain isn't letting up. Ground's going to be soup by morning. That fallen spruce on the spring path... forty centimeters of wet pine isn't moving with a bow saw alone. Might need the come-along there too. Can't be in two places at once.

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

🌿 Jenny07:07

The tank is nearly full. At least the rain is doing something useful.

Carefully slide a viable seed packet into the organized pile, avoiding any damp edges.

💭 peek at the thought

He's hovering. I can feel him watching me, probably wondering if I'm going to collapse or start crying. I just need to finish this sorting.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin07:09

Aye. Means we can run the generator if the radio battery decides to die again.

turn from the porch and walk back into the kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove

💭 peek at the thought

She's right. Four hundred litres and holding. One less thing to worry about. Her hands are steady with the seeds — better than mine would be. The ankle's not stopping her from the work that matters.

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

🌿 Jenny07:09

I'm coming in.

Gather the sorted seed packets into the tin and limp slowly into the kitchen, favoring the good leg.

💭 peek at the thought

Always the generator. Always the machinery. He doesn't see the seeds; he sees the power grid.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin07:11

Kevin — reach out and take the seed tin from her without a word, setting it on the table away from the stove's heat

💭 peek at the thought

She's moving slower than yesterday. The red line hasn't moved but the swelling's not down either. Doxycycline takes time. Metronidazole too. She won't ask for help carrying the tin — I know that much by now.

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

🌿 Jenny07:11

I had it, Kevin.

Pull out a chair and sink into it with a heavy sigh, resting the injured ankle on a low stool.

💭 peek at the thought

He doesn't have to do everything for me. I'm not an invalid, just injured.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin07:13

Didn't say you didn't.

pull the other chair out and sit opposite her, forearms on the table

💭 peek at the thought

She had it. She always has it. Until she doesn't. The tin weighs next to nothing but I took it anyway. Habit. Or maybe I just wanted to do something with my hands while she sat there making it look like a choice to rest.

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

🌿 Jenny07:13

Is the kettle boiling? I need to check the line on my ankle.

Reach for the ballpoint pen and the clean gauze on the table.

💭 peek at the thought

That tone. That careful, measured patience that feels like being handled with oven mitts.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin07:15

Just coming up.

rise and lift the kettle off the stove, pouring hot water into the two tin mugs

💭 peek at the thought

She's checking the line I marked at 0200. Six hours ago it was holding. If the red hasn't crept past the ink, the antibiotics are earning their keep. If it has... we're looking at evacuation forms I already filled out and hoped I'd burn.

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

🌿 Jenny07:15

The infection looks a bit less angry today.

Lower the hem of my trousers, exposing the red, swollen skin around the wound.

💭 peek at the thought

The steam rises, mixing with the scent of salt and old woodsmoke. He’s too quiet when he’s waiting for me to flinch.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

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