My head is reeling from yesterdays road trip. My body is dealing with everything else.

What day is it? Do I have anything on my schedule? Do I even have a schedule, and if I do, where the fuck is it?

Ate breakfast at the Square, fed a hungry fuel tank with Kroger gas, and drove to the park. When I got to the lake, a dozen or more wildlife trucks were there. I'm not sure if they were State or Federal.

All the geese had been rounded up into a big black oval pen, and about twenty or more people were around and in the pen, doing something.

I approached the area and a cute Park Ranger approached me. She told me they're tagging them to track migration habits.

I told her I've been feeding them for a while, and she said "I know, I see you here all the time!" I wonder if they have a nickname for me back at the Ranger Station? The Bird Feeder? The Old Quacker? The Bag Man?

I went back at noon and they were far away, hanging out by the dam. They all have new leg bands on that gives them a unique ID, their sex, tracks them, and god knows what else.

What if a male goose identifies as a female goose? Where's the LGBT whatever communities uproar over this!

The human to goose progress I had made with that group, having them eat from my hand, and thump my leg when I missed their turn, is in question.

They certainly didn't want to be back at the dock, where the humans earlier trapped them, grabbed them up and pulled their feathers down around their genitals. Then get handed off to other humans, that I assume put the band on.

They're traumatized at the moment, and I hope one of my squawkers bit a nose! I'll check on them tomorrow.