The zombie that attacked me when I went outside to try to dig up some carrots was wielding a bar of iron.
But not like a steel pipe. More like an ingot.
I don’t know whether it was supposed to be the world’s worst set of brass knuckles or what.
I ran him through on my sword with my good arm (go me!) and went back to digging up carrots.
Since my good arm’s still wrenched I’m teaching myself to fish with my other arm, while I’m still convinced the good one will at some point heal. After all, if it gets blown clean off I’d rather already be able to use the other one.
- an ancient fishing pole
- 3 bowls
- 1 hook of some sort
- 1 animal name tag collar thing?
- a large wad of spider silk
- 18 fish
- 1 pair of boots (of course)
The pole looks the most interesting because it shimmers funny, and because it seems light and well-balanced. My current pole I made myself and it catches fish, but it’s not always the easiest process to haul them in. This new-to-me-pole is much better at that, good enough that I was able to catch the rest of the stuff.
Okay now this isn’t a day off because if it was a day off I’d be enjoying it.
Instead it appears I wrenched my back and shoulder hauling that anvil across the great wasteland underground yesterday, and now I can’t pick up anything heavier than this pen with my right hand. (Seriously. Not even the ink bottle.)
So it’s all about hot soaks and eating protein and sleeping for now. Wish me luck.
And alcohol. If somehow you could wish me a bottle of whiskey that would be amazing.
Is it really a day off if you use it to forge a giant anvil in a sand cast and then drag that anvil many many meters back to where you usually work on things?
It still feels like a day off compared to working on that lava river, so I’m going with yes.
Plus, the ducken skins are tanning so I can start sewing another bed soon. Or maybe a new undershirt, since this one’s about worn through and singed in a couple of places.
But maybe a ducken skin shirt is too creepy. Can’t decide.
Ran out of fish. Not particularly surprised because, like I said, they’re not very filling. They’re not very big either. I mean, I can eat three or four at a sitting. It’s like if you decided to try to eat sunfish or crappies (does anyone know what sunfish and crappies outside of my grandfather and me anymore) instead of a good-sized bass.
Anyway, as much as I hate to do it, I spent the day hunting ducken for meat.
I tried to leave my own flock alone and only hunt the ones that were outside of my pen, but there’s so many of them that I suspect the ones inside my pen are slowly escaping.
I never did figure out how my horses got out.
Back to the topic: ducken meat. Cooking it now, on a wood fire, which smells a lot better than coal.