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Yesterday, Bobby and I went to the livestock auction in Westminster. It was our third time going: once for chicks, twice for Ameraucanas, and the third time to replace the roosters. Well, we struck out the first two times, but three's a charm, and we came home with five fluffy hens: three Delawares and two New Hampshire Reds. We've already gotten two eggs out of them.
The roosters are gone. Bobby found a guy and his wife with a farm that pretty much collect chickens because they like them. He had an ad up on Craigslist and was happy to take our four fellows off of our hands. We dropped them off on Tuesday. It was a little sad saying goodbye, to the little reds at least. (The Rocks weren't particularly friendly and smelled bad and Dicey Riley clawed up my arm when I was trying to catch him on Saturday.) Sophia fluttered into my arms for one last time, and we walked out to the shed to refill the feeder, and that was it. But they're in a good place now.
As we drove away from the farm, Bobby's iPod shuffled the Dubliner's song "Dicey Riley." Ha!
Aside from the chicken drama, I had ten hours of classroom observation this week. That is a good thing because it means I'm nearly one-third done. But it's not so good in that it means that most of my "spare time" has been spent writing DS articles to make up for those ten hours off. Also, I am trying to put together my student teaching application packet in what shreds of honest-t'-goodness spare time I actually do have left, but no one from the university seems to want to respond to my emails asking for help. Grr! This drives me nuts! I become like a madwoman when I'm working with a tight schedule and other people are holding me back from making progress. It irritates me that I've done everything I'm supposed to do well ahead of schedule and still find myself running down to the wire, mostly because people from the university have been incompetent in communicating expectations. For example, I was supposed to email the School of Education when I was halfway done my program. So, over the summer, I emailed them and said, "Yo, I'm halfway done!" (not my exact words, but my poor stewed brain can't conjure anything better right now), and I got a reply that said, "Okay, thanks for letting us know!" Well, come to find out, that was when I was supposed to receive the massive application packet that I only got a few weeks ago when the program director mentioned, as an aside to another email I sent, that I should have an application packet, provoking something of a "Bwhuh?" response from me. I know that given my chronic tardiness in running my fannish projects, it is hard to imagine, but in my real life, I really do like to get things done well ahead of schedule. (That is, incidentally, part of the reason that I'm always so far behind on fannish projects!) Anyway, now I'm waiting on a response about fingerprint cards and background checks for three days now, which is starting to tee me off, because it's a question that might take five minutes to answer. The last person I emailed never did answer my email. I ended up calling her. (I loathe talking on the phone.)
*breathes* Anyway. That's my life at the moment. Thank goodness I only have one grad class this semester (and the two independent study courses) because I do not know how I would manage a full-time grad school schedule while trying to finish these observation hours and write articles and put together this cursed application packet.
The roosters are gone. Bobby found a guy and his wife with a farm that pretty much collect chickens because they like them. He had an ad up on Craigslist and was happy to take our four fellows off of our hands. We dropped them off on Tuesday. It was a little sad saying goodbye, to the little reds at least. (The Rocks weren't particularly friendly and smelled bad and Dicey Riley clawed up my arm when I was trying to catch him on Saturday.) Sophia fluttered into my arms for one last time, and we walked out to the shed to refill the feeder, and that was it. But they're in a good place now.
As we drove away from the farm, Bobby's iPod shuffled the Dubliner's song "Dicey Riley." Ha!
Aside from the chicken drama, I had ten hours of classroom observation this week. That is a good thing because it means I'm nearly one-third done. But it's not so good in that it means that most of my "spare time" has been spent writing DS articles to make up for those ten hours off. Also, I am trying to put together my student teaching application packet in what shreds of honest-t'-goodness spare time I actually do have left, but no one from the university seems to want to respond to my emails asking for help. Grr! This drives me nuts! I become like a madwoman when I'm working with a tight schedule and other people are holding me back from making progress. It irritates me that I've done everything I'm supposed to do well ahead of schedule and still find myself running down to the wire, mostly because people from the university have been incompetent in communicating expectations. For example, I was supposed to email the School of Education when I was halfway done my program. So, over the summer, I emailed them and said, "Yo, I'm halfway done!" (not my exact words, but my poor stewed brain can't conjure anything better right now), and I got a reply that said, "Okay, thanks for letting us know!" Well, come to find out, that was when I was supposed to receive the massive application packet that I only got a few weeks ago when the program director mentioned, as an aside to another email I sent, that I should have an application packet, provoking something of a "Bwhuh?" response from me. I know that given my chronic tardiness in running my fannish projects, it is hard to imagine, but in my real life, I really do like to get things done well ahead of schedule. (That is, incidentally, part of the reason that I'm always so far behind on fannish projects!) Anyway, now I'm waiting on a response about fingerprint cards and background checks for three days now, which is starting to tee me off, because it's a question that might take five minutes to answer. The last person I emailed never did answer my email. I ended up calling her. (I loathe talking on the phone.)
*breathes* Anyway. That's my life at the moment. Thank goodness I only have one grad class this semester (and the two independent study courses) because I do not know how I would manage a full-time grad school schedule while trying to finish these observation hours and write articles and put together this cursed application packet.
