Yup. Duck Manager. That’s my new title, or at least it was in a typo-filled email addressed to me, but it works all the same. Our basin has it’s share of ducks among the docks, and they spend most of their time eating, pooping, and making yet more fuzzy little duckies. It’s just one more thing to deal with in the endless list of things that arise in a marina as large as Haverstraw. And it’s why, yet again, my day off finds me scrambling between groceries, doctors, assorted and endless errands, and in the end a day ‘off’ is anything but. The days and weeks have blurred past; it’s been non-stop since I signed on last July, and now that the mountain of winter contracts is beginning to slack off as hauling season moves along, I see (at last) quieter days ahead. The time I’ve scraping out for writing grows longer with each night, and it feels almost as though I’m finally reclaiming some of myself again. With any luck, I might even be posting regularly over the coming months — and oh, the tales I have to tell — because it’s rarely dull, managing ducks.
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