Day 105: Not-as-new territory

Day 105:

Spent the day chasing a seam of granite through the depths of my caverns. I thought I’d gone as deep as I’d ever gone before… then I broke through a wall into a cavern where apparently I had already left a torch.

Either that or the zombies have suddenly decided to start playing with fire because hey, did I mention cavern full of zombies?

I’m getting better at killing them efficiently, but still makes the heart race a bit.

Also, they wrecked my shoes and most of my pants so I have to make more.

Stupid zombies.

PS there was also a ducken in the cavern.

Line sketch of a ducken and a torch at the opening of a cavern, with the author's feet and legs in view. Pants are ripped off at the knee and the shoes lack both toes and heels.
Gotta make me some new pants.

Day 104: Fishing and rest

Day 104:

Did some sand “mining” for a bit this morning, then went fishing the rest of the day. Pulled up a glass bottle full of liquid. I know you’re thinking “of course it’s full of liquid, you found it while fishing,” but the thing is that there was a stopper in the top of the bottle (cork maybe? Could there be cork here somewhere?) and the liquid in the bottle was a bright cerulean blue, unlike the darker blues of the river and lake nearby. (And ocean, I tend to forget to mention the ocean.)

I have set it on a shelf and I am hoping it doesn’t explode. I have no intention of opening it.

Well, not right now anyway.

An arm (bent unnaturally) holding a small bright blue bottle of liquid. In the background, the grass, the sea, and the sky.
something seriously wrong with my ability to drawn hands.

Day 103: More and more duckens

Day 103:

I have so many birds that I can’t open a door without birds moving in or out.

We will not discuss the droppings.

A red background representing red granite, covered with off-white splotches representing ducken poo.
They’re. On. Everything.

Day 102: More ducken tales

Day 102:

Once upon a time there were twin ducken babies (chicklings? chicklets?) named Move and Get Out Of The Way who lived deep in the tunnels of Serendipity Plains.

One day the two babies decided to stand in the way of absolutely everything their nearby human did, until she accidentally tapped one of them with a shovel. Not hard enough to bruise, even, just hard enough to get their attention.

Then the creatures let up a wail that would set even the sternest and most uncaring heart ablaze with pain and sorrow of their tiny fluffy broken hearts.

And the human ended up serving the tiny chicklets the end of her bread off her sandwich.

And they were best friends again for at least ten minutes at which point the human started yelling at them by name all over again.

The end.

Sketch of two duckens so close o the artist that you can't see the feet of one of them because it's out of the frame. They stare with beady eyes. Labelled "always as close as possible."
Like having sentient slippers.

Day 101: Getting Deeper

Day 101:

In addition to turning toward the giant mountain (a direction I call “east” based on the sunrise) I’m digging deeper than ever before. The deeper I go, the higher the quality and volume of valuable stone like granite and andesite I’m hitting. I’m finding more iron ore, too.

I’ve got two baby chicks following me around as if somehow we’re going to find a corn cavern or something down in the lower ends of the pit. They’re much more eager than Bobby is… Bobby just kinds of lolls about as if to say “yeah, sure, let me know if there’s something interesting going on,” while the two chicks are like “HEY WHAT IS THAT WHAT ARE YOU DOING HOW ABOUT IF I STAND HERE IN THE WORST PLACE POSSIBLE WHILE YOU DIG?”

Babies. Ugh.

Line drawing of the artist trying to mine while the chicks stand on the rock the artist is trying to mine. Caption: Optimal position of baby ducken (according to them). 1. on rock I want to hit. 2. On my foot.