Spent all day in the archives transcribing a journal from a young man working in the Pacific Northwest in 1855.
Thus far, dude has spent all of September 1855 losing his horse, complaining about his co-workers (and the weather), waxing poetic about coffee and basically being a huge goober.
It is incredibly comforting to me how little has changed in this world. <3
I can’t wait to see what he got up to in October.
(also I may or may not ship him with one of his co-workers who keeps saving his bacon. Seriously, dude would have been dead several times over if it weren’t for his buddy McQuirk.)