Compostable Kate

I'm considering having some sort of party for my next birthday. It's a significant one, so I ought to do something to mark the occasion - or at least get some presents to cheer me up from turning 30-ten. I'm hesitating, though, as my last two attempts to have a party got overshadowed by catastrophe, and were cancelled. I was going to have a 5th (approximately) birthday party for Freddy-cat last January, but the preceding December saw me getting dumped by two friends, and caused me to question my worth as a human being and a friend. I certainly wasn't in the mood for entertaining, even though I'd already downloaded lots of cat-themed music from iTunes. I was going to have an 8th birthday party for Dexter at the end of October, but just a week beforehand I ended up resigning from a job I loved. I was heartbroken and stressed to my limit, so in no frame of mind for partying. Even for Dexter. I'm concerned that it will happen again - although surely I

I've not been unemployed for at least 10 years. There were a couple of weeks when I moved back to Australia in 1999 when I didn't have a job, and a few weeks when I had to withdraw from university in my first year, back in 1995, but other than that, I've always had a job (I haven't always been paid , but I've always had a job). I certainly didn't plan to be unemployed at this stage in my life, and as I had only been getting paid for my last job for 6 weeks, after two and a half years as a full-time volunteer, I am definitely not in any financial state to be jobless. I had already planned to take a week's break after finishing up at CH, which is just as well, considering what else has been happening, so I've only been jobseeking for a week so far. I had been hoping to find some casual, straightforward work, to fill my time and pay my rent, but without any stress or sleepless nights as a result. However, many options are closed to me now: bartendin

Dad was witty and warm and very loving. He had a wonderful sense of humour, and a great sense of the ridiculous. Our Dad wasn't a conventional Dad. He was an artist, musician, hippy-type of Dad. This means that he didn't do the archetypal “Dad” stuff with us, but being incredibly inventive and creative, found other ways to influence, nurture and entertain us. Most of our memories of Dad revolve around his creativity and artistry. There was a flour tin which Dad had labelled with a cartoon of a daisy hauling itself up with a block and tackle—a self-raising flower. It might have taken a few of us a while to grasp the concept of puns, but we liked the picture. We always had the best fancy dress costumes, hand-made by Mum and Dad, with Dad coming up with innovative ways of adding minute details, such as olde-fashioned shoe buckles on our sensible lace-up shoes. Our birthday parties always featured make-your-own party hats, where we and our friends would get to cut out our h

I missed out on having my group interview at Coles today, due to the fact that the back of Coles is apparently strewn with meat carcasses, and Dexter's presence would be a health hazard. Besides that, their staff amenities are upstairs, with no lift. I did get a one-on-one interview with the Store Manager, who was greatly interested in Dexter and his role in my working life. He also pointed out that I was wildly over-qualified, but I assured him that it was just what I was looking for, as I just wanted a job that I could do well but not have to dream about. So it seems that I won't be able to work at the New Farm store, but they have two stores in the City that are meat carcass-free, and have accessible amenities. I might also find myself at Lutwych or Toombul. I'd prefer the City, so I can commute by ferry, but I'll just have to wait and see. As a by-the-way, I explained to the Store Manager about JobAccess, and suggested that Coles should be seen to be employi

Ian Cugley: A Tribute Peter Sculthorpe Ian was one of the most gifted students that I’ve ever had the privilege of teaching. Actually, I didn’t regard him as a student: he was a friend. When I was in the United States in the mid 1960’s, he and Jenny even looked after my house. Ian and I remained in close contact until the time that he left for England. I last saw him in Hobart, with his young and boisterous family. Many years later, Ian wrote to me from England and we then corresponded from time to time. While I was deeply concerned about his health problems, his letters, always quirkily-expressed, were remarkably cheerful. He kept me abreast of the music that he was writing and the physical difficulties involved with it. Ian’s orchestral work Pan, the Lake was recorded by the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Joseph Post, in 1968. A meditative work, Ian dedicated it to Donald Peart, founding Professor of Music at the University of Sydney. He chose to base it upon a theme