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Friday, 8 February 2008

Chick-rearing, day 20

Three-and-a-half degrees at 8am. Blue skies and sunny. No wind.

This morning there is much excitement in the house on the rock. The first egg is cracked and the first cheeps of the chick can be heard...

The excitement is mingled with mother-over-40 anxiety. Why aren't the others starting to wobble and crack? Could it be possible that only one will hatch? Could that few hours on day 14 when the temperature was by accident above 38 degrees have killed all the rest? If we take a picnic to the mountains this afternoon will any hatched young die from banging their heads too often on the incubator heating element?

The stress. The stress. Publishing was never so stressy.

No comments:

Friday, 8 February 2008

Chick-rearing, day 20

Three-and-a-half degrees at 8am. Blue skies and sunny. No wind.

This morning there is much excitement in the house on the rock. The first egg is cracked and the first cheeps of the chick can be heard...

The excitement is mingled with mother-over-40 anxiety. Why aren't the others starting to wobble and crack? Could it be possible that only one will hatch? Could that few hours on day 14 when the temperature was by accident above 38 degrees have killed all the rest? If we take a picnic to the mountains this afternoon will any hatched young die from banging their heads too often on the incubator heating element?

The stress. The stress. Publishing was never so stressy.

No comments: