The school students return today. I have a faculty meeting at 9 AM and a meeting with a parent after lunch. Though I will try to fit in a ski to exercise the dogs and various small chores, vacation is over.
Knowing this was coming, my brain has waked me at 4 AM for the last two days. Go, go, go!
Of course I haven’t accomplished as much as I thought I would this week. I haven’t even accomplished everything I wrote on my second, edited list, which I had hopefully titled, REALISTIC WEEKEND PLAN.
It’s not that I dislike my job. I love teaching history. It is a daily joy, the ideal job for me. This year I had a t-shirt printed for my 8th graders.
The parts of the job that chafe are the administrative ones I’ve been asked to take on this year. I’m chairman of the department and must organize my peers with tact (a tough assignment for someone tactless by nature). I have new daily writing duties that commandeer 60-90 minutes every weekday morning. I was also requested to write a school blog. While I can do all these things, the result has been to feel as if I have no spare brain cells and that my part-time job has taken over my life.
I will get through it this year, and then reevaluate. In the meantime, this morning I’m taking a deep breath before I plunge back in.
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My gander Andy is still drinking but not eating. I’ve been tube-feeding him 2-3 times a day since his accident. Tube-feeding an adult, biting goose is not easy. Picture me straddling him, 60 mL syringe clenched in my teeth like a mad pirate, and using my hands to thread a tube down his throat. I will know it is time to stop when he is strong enough to prevent me (or when I see him eat).
Yesterday Andy stood on one leg for the first time, and immediately began worrying at the splint. A goose’s beak is very strong. I hope he cannot get it off. As imperfect as it may be, the splint should be on for three weeks. I check the leg daily for circulation.
His foot remains limp. It is always hard to know if one is doing the right thing.
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The wild turkeys have grown bolder and bolder. Though they’ve been in the barnyard for weeks, scratching apart cow pies in search of undigested cracked corn, yesterday the flock braved the barn for the chicken feed! Eight turkeys flew out in a thundering rush when I arrived to muck stalls at mid-day, except this one hen which became confused and flew into the sheep stall with the geese before eventually making her way out the open door.