"A colleague said, 'I want you to stay here with me. I'm very lonely.' It took me a minute to realize she wasn't talking to me, but to the little dog that was out of sight behind her desk. Another entry in the life of a school with a Vet Tech program."
I am always struck by the materials we're ordering, the stuff we need to get rid of. Yesterday I made this Facebook post:
"Yesterday we got an invoice (and a shipment) from Skulls Unlimited. My brain immediately thought, if Flannery O'Connor wrote a short story using this detail, what would that short story look like? And how would we know God's mysteries more intimately because we read that story?
And then, how can I write this story? And then, how mundane that it's a delivery for Vet Tech classes, not some sort of evidence of strange conspiratorial group of psycho killers."
Let me be clear: we got a canine skull and a feline skull. We also got an e-mail with instructions for storing them in the freezer, then putting them in the refrigerator to defrost in time for students to use them.
These are not items I ever thought I'd be ordering, items I ever thought about using in a classroom. When I was in grad school, I'd have been thinking about fascimiles of manuscripts, copies of pre-Raph paintings.
But that's been the story of my working life thus far--post grad school, strange doors have opened, I've gone through them, and I've discovered abundant recompense (to use the phrase from Wordsworth).