My definition of what’s valuable is slowly starting to change.
I emptied a storage chest of highly valuable granite today to fill it up with glass instead.
Now, for the number of silicone planets, planetesimals, and asteroids in this galaxy, we’re not going to run out of sand anytime soon in the greater galactic economy.
But here on Junk Rock (as I’m calling the place right now), glass and sand are hard to come by, so I’m hoarding them like diamonds (literally, the diamonds are in the case next door) and granite, while very good at withstanding explosions and keeping zombies out, is taking second fiddle.
And I’m still topside, which is unusual for me. But it would be nice to go underground with the confidence that I have a full supply of baked potatoes, plenty of glass, lots of wood, and one incredibly stupid ducken.
(My bed was covered in eggs this morning. I am not happy.)
So I’m warming up, getting a nice sunburn, and filling my storage chests.
Idiot found me. He’s currently sleeping on my head. I didn’t ask for a ducken to sleep on my head, but the little jerk can fly, so every time I shoo him away he flies up a bit then lands on my head again.
All other activities today really don’t matter compared to that.
I managed to shake off Idiot down in the caverns.
I spent the day digging sand deposits out of the river. Discovered that one of them was blocking access to a cave full of ore, but since I’ve already got a couple of caves full of ore, I’m not actually going after this one (right now).
I also dug up my latest crop of potatoes and I have so. many. potatoes.
I started using the residual heat from the furnaces that I’m melting the sand into glass just to bake the potatoes so I can eat them instead of the fish.
I’ll probably get really bored, but if I remember correctly, I won’t get scurvy.
I wish I had enough sheep to make a nice mutton stew, or maybe a rabbit stew, with all these carrots and potatoes. I don’t like stew enough to cook an entire cow worth of stew.
One of my duckens has taken to following me all over the place again. It seem to be some kind of random trait, like an odd genetic mutation, because the bulk of them don’t really care whether I’m there or not. This one has been following me for three days and I’m trying really hard not to pay attention to it because duckens die so easily.
The chamber I’m working in has a lava fall which I’ve glassed up to protect the bird, who I’ve named “Idiot” because you’d have to be an idiot to follow me anywhere.
Duckens die easily from head injuries, which makes them easy to hunt (whack them on the head with a rock or a shovel and you’ve got yourself some cooking meat) but difficult to keep in caves. Plus for some reason they like to jump onto ledges. So most of the other followers I’ve lost jumped onto a ledge, tried to jump off the ledge, banged themselves on the head, and died.
I’m not holding out much hope for Idiot. But it is kind of nice to have someone nearby I can talk to who isn’t trying to kill me, even if they’re covered with feathers and supremely bad at survival.
My “friends” the exploding giraffe-corgi have been giving me a wide berth as of late, and I’m assuming it’s due to the slimes. Maybe they don’t get along. Maybe slime puts out explosions. Maybe giant gelatinous jumping cubes just don’t like to get bits of exploding giraffe-corgis in their… torsos?
Anyway, I didn’t see a single slime today but I did see a herd (flock? pack?) of exploding giraffe-corgis instead.
I managed to dispatch all of them without a single explosion, possibly because they were so far away they couldn’t get to me in time.
I’m kind of proud of my arrow-making (fletching? I think it was called fletching) abilities… my arrows are flying further and with more power. (The power might be the bow.) Can’t say I ever thought I’d be a fletcher, but one becomes what one needs, I suppose.