18 Life Goes On

CHAPTER 18 Life Goes On In my third year on the island, everyday life really started to take shape. I was busy hunting and cooking in the mornings, just as I had every morning for two years now. I spent afternoons working on projects, like building shelves and improving both of my homes. Some days I would head out to my valley and check on my crops. They were doing

quite well, despite all the attention they received from local birds and hares! To solve the first problem, I hung feathers all around to scare the birds off. To solve the second problem, I built a fence around my crops so the wild hares couldn't get in. Both solutions worked and soon the crops were undisturbed by the local wildlife. The harvest that year was quite small, so I decided just to replant the seeds I sowed. One of the comforts of my old life that I strongly desired to have was bread. I needed to make sure I had enough barley and rice to make that dream a reality. When the rains started, like usual, I stayed inside as much as possible. I spent a good few weeks trying to teach Poll to speak, and she eventually learned to say a few words and phrases. That season was also the start of my pottery making. There was a good amount of

natural clay on the island. I made many attempts to bake the objects I shaped in the fire. But each time they would emerge broken. What am I doing wrong? I wondered. I experimented with different types of heat. Soon, I learned that they didn't break if I set them on the embers, instead of directly into the fire. Like my baskets, the bowls were far from perfect. I made a lot of pots for cooking and started to enjoy a variety of different dinners, like stew and broth! What a change from my usual meals of fire-roasted meat. That year, my second harvest was also successful. I now had enough seeds in storage that I felt comfortable trying to make bread. The biscuits I had saved from the ship had long run out and I craved something like them. First, I carved a large bowl from the piece of ironwood I had chopped off almost

two whole years ago. Next, I put some of my corn into the bowl and tried to grind it into meal. After that, I strained the meal through some old clothes, hoping to separate out the husks. Now I had flour. Having no yeast to make it rise or any butter to add flavor and grease to bake with, I simply mixed the flour with water and hoped for the best. Well, these loaves were little better than flatbread, but they were delicious nonetheless. The harvests continued to be successful. I didn't want to destroy any seeds, so I started only planting once a year. I knew how much seed I needed, how much flour I could make and actually use—I didn't want to anything to go to waste.