Day 703: indoors again

Day 703:

There’s a very loud thunderstorm overhead and I’ve decided swinging metal tools over my head in this weather is a bad idea.

The nice part is that I don’t need to surface from my mining every few hours to see if it’s still there. It’s doing a very good job of telling me and I’m at least two stories underground.

The not-as-nice part about it is that I’m not outside cleaning up and there could be murderers creeping up on my home again even as I’m writing this.

But at least digging where I am (about a half a story under the river) is safer than digging under lava. Which is good because I’ve gotten drenched twice.

Day 702: more lava adventures

Day 702:

There’s ore under the lava lake.

I know because I started by trying to dig out ore that was south of the lava lake and discovered the ore vein ran right under the lake.

In most places, I’m still protected by a good layer of dirt. But in a few the lava is leaking out of its caldera and dripping into the space I’m digging.

It’s…. nerve wracking.

And yes I know that I could just avoid it. I probably should just avoid it. No point getting killed for some ore.

On the other hand, I’ve been here 700 days, no use not getting killed for some ore.

(This may be the wrong attitude to take, but I’m in a duck-it kind of mood today.)

Day 701: lava lake

Day 701:

Discovered that the hill I was cleaning up also has a lake in it — but it’s a lava lake.

I am very glad I harvested that sand a few days ago or whenever it was, so that I have enough glass on hand to protect myself from the lava.

Gotta say a surprise lava lake is not my favorite surprise. I remember my mom making me a lava cake as a kid for a birthday party, or at least I remember the cake. It was chocolate and moist and filled with warm fudge.

Definitely a better surprise than a sulfurous stinky fire lake.

I should make a cake tonight. I still have pumpkin in the garden…. maybe I can make a pie.

Day 700: good grief

Day 700:

Seven hundred days on this rock is too many.

I have to concentrate to remember what my grandparents looked like. I can’t remember their voices anymore.

I barely remember the captain’s voice, and that’s mostly because I remember some of the announcements that were made daily as if they’re burned into my soul. But they’re becoming words now, less than sounds, and I think what I remember is remembering them.

I’m glad I remember enough of civilization to know things like how doors work and what a security system was and how toothpaste tasted. I may still need to create some of them myself, so I’m glad that’s still there.

And I still want to go home.

I took yesterday off so today I spent  the day clearing brush around the hills, which are rapidly growing in size. They’re not the mountains to the east, but they’re not the rolling hills near my main camp, either.

At least clearing brush helps me gather seeds and not think of the date.

Day 699: taking a rest

Day 699:

I didn’t do much today. I sat on the edge of the little ponds that I dug out the past few days and watched the sun cross the sky. I ate a few sandwiches and did some fishing. I didn’t catch much. I watched the duckens wander around and shot a passing zombie, like you do.

It was a good day off. I should take more of them.