That's a pretty bleak little image--the Forest Service guy taking on the cruelty of winter with a hand ax. That's sort of like sticking your thumb in a leaking dike or electing a reality television star as President of the United States. It just doesn't fix anything.
I've sort of felt like that all day long. I've been going in between writing my Christmas essay and grading papers. Back and forth, back and forth. And I've just realized that it doesn't feel like I'm making really great progress on either endeavor. The end of the Christmas essay doesn't seem any closer, and the pile of papers doesn't look any smaller. Depressing.
Of course, there's not much I can do about it. I just have to keep chopping away with my hand ax until I can free the duck, if you get my meaning. (The sad thing is that I'm the duck frozen to the pond.) But that's the way fall semesters always end. Blizzards of papers and exams coupled with the craziness of the holidays.
Tonight, however, I'm not feeling overwhelmed. Just a little exhausted. Perhaps I will take the rest of the night off when I get home. I have to make some brownies for tomorrow. That's about it. I'll probably grade a few more essays, too.
I am trying to avoid worry and fear. I call myself a Christian, so I'm pulling out my faith card. I will get my Christmas essay written. I will get all my grading done. Eventually, I will have classes to teach next semester (haven't heard about that yet, either).
Faith. Trust. Bailey's Irish Cream. Those are Saint Marty's words of the day.
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