1.6 Comforts

His name is Timi. He puts up a brave face, but I don’t think he’s more than 14 or 15. Barely more than a child.

He didn’t need much persuasion to stay. He seemed so lost when we found him. Whatever he was doing in his previous life, it didn’t involve outdoor skills.

While I was out foraging, I happened upon something that we’d all be fantasizing about and dashed home to bring the kids with me up the hill.

In the tropical climate, the natural spring wasn’t even that cold. I don’t think any of us have been anywhere near clean since we got here. It was almost a transcendental moment.

Better yet, I’m getting better at weaving fibers, and I was able to make us a change of clothes that would hold together and didn’t feel like wearing a burlap sack. We won’t talk about my first attempts.

Adelle cleaned up so sweetly.

Timi finished his shower with a flash of inspiration.

He may not be a survivor, but he’s clearly a scientist and engineer. Though we still speak only the rudiments of each other’s languages, he can draw an amazingly clear diagram. I’m used to living in the rough for a few months at a time, and I’m handy, but I’m no engineer. You don’t need to hear the one about how many paleontologists it takes to screw in a lightbulb.

But with Timi’s vision and a whole lot of sweat and dirt, we managed to dig a well! Drinkable water at the campsite! It’s hard to believe.

And assemble a more permanent fireplace with a usable cook surface.

Best of all, we can use this thing to heat water for a bath in our freshly-built outhouse.

All the comforts of home. Well, maybe not exactly, but considering our earlier lifestyle, this is high luxury.

———-

Nobody pester me about the feasibility of digging a freshwater well by the beach. Or about the fact that I couldn’t completely color over the iPod on Echo’s outfit.