Like a lumbering alkaloid dinosaur from Titan, Shovel 10 slowly walks its way up the mountain, maw open and ready to devour everything in its path with its blunt metal teeth.



Work really kicked my ass this week. We moved a shovel every day, and two yesterday- from the bottom of the pit to the top of the mountain, or off to the healing grounds to get fixed. A shovel, for those of you unfamiliar with the alien world that is an open pit coal mine, is the primary means of moving rock to get at coal. They're gargantuan electric digging machines, not the small handheld tools you find in your garage. They're also unwieldy. It's not like you can just drive them anywhere you want, you have to manhandle their power cables, move things around, make sure nothing catches on fire, or touches a powerline. Basically you stand outside in the cold ensuring that nothing goes wrong. When there's a ramp involved, and ice, then you want to have a bulldozer (another species of metal monster- a brutish and stubborn chilopod from Neptune) acting as a brake in case, as almost happened with 10 here, it starts sliding out of control. Moving one is a lot of work, and takes a long time. Still, it's not a bad job, especially with the scenery. I certainly don't mind working. And who else gets to play with giant metal alien dinosaur robots that eat rocks?
Anyways, work's done, time to enjoy some days off. Four of them. On the agenda for today: absolutely nothing! Lots and lots of nothing.