A tiring day

The lawn seems thicker this year. Some of its plant species are new; I wonder if this is good or bad. I mowed again yesterday and, in one hour, used two full tanks of gas.

This afternoon I gave the first of the two lectures on Alasdair MacIntyre. “You spoon-fed the students,” said my Uncle Tim. “Which was exactly what I wanted you to do.” The broth I spoon-fed them was pretty diluted. My seven-page handout was neither very comprehensive nor very detailed; even so, the writing of it felt like hard labor, and at class-time I was exhausted. So were the students, several of whom fell asleep.

I’m always reassured when students do this. The most gratifying teaching evaluation I ever received said that one half of the semester was “boring but very important”; it told me that I was doing something right.

My cousin Vickie, who has been looking after Samuel during these guest lectures, was unavailable today because she has contracted a disease. Her place was kindly taken by my Aunt Sally. When I got home, I received a report of the many activities that Samuel was encouraged to do.