Compostable Kate

For the last couple of years I've been on a plastic-elimination diet, and working hard at drastically reducing my landfill footprint (ie what I cause to sent to be buried in the ground for all eternity*). I have made some huge progress, although I still have some way to go to becoming zero waste (I think I'm at about 80% waste-free). One step on this journey was to get rid of my kitchen bin. In theory, everything I use in my kitchen should be either recyclable or compostable, leaving no use for a kitchen bin. However, I do have one item that is neither: my cat's uneaten food. FreddyCat is a fussy eater. I put this down to his hyperthyroidism – and being a cat. After considerable trial and error, I have found a range of foods that he will (usually) consent to eat, but he never eats ALL of anything I put down for him. There is always something left over; sometimes all of it. Cat food reeks even before going off, so I have to dispose of it. As I am a ver

I've been trying to organise some money to live on for the last two weeks, ever since my teaching contract expired at the end of November (two weeks before the end of term so they don't have to pay me over the holidays). While I do qualify for the "Lump  Sum Summer Payment" from the Department of Education, it doesn't come through until the end of the month. In the meantime, and for the rest of the summer break (unless I can find some temp work), I need some help from Centrelink. I was being supported by the Disability Support Pension until about 4 weeks ago, when they changed their policy and dropped me (and many others in my situation). I had previously been assured that it would be there for me over the summer break, even though it didn't pay me any money while I was earning. With the loss of the DSP also came the loss of subsidised medications (OMG, I had no idea what they really cost(, my electricity subsidy, and my subsidised stamps from the Post Off

I've been banging on a bit about Plastic-Free July - but not *too* much, I hope - to try to encourage more people (really, just ONE more person) to take up the challenge to reduce their plastic consumption, or to at least ensure their plastics all get recycled, not put in landfill. I did the challenge for the first time last year, and drastically reduced the amount of single-use plastic I use, while also becoming painfully aware of how ubiquitous single-use plastic is in our lives. It is EVERYWHERE. And it's not just where we can see it. Even if your product sits on the supermarket shelf plastic-free, the chances are it got delivered swathed in plastic. I'm afraid to ask what happens to that plastic.... Trying to do grocery shopping without buying things wrapped in plastic is *really* difficult, not to mention expensive. Plastic-free bread (if you can persuade the bakery to put it in a paper bag, not plastic) is much more expensive that the $1 bread in a plastic bag

http://allthingsclipart.com I've had another attempt to discuss my pain management medication (Tramadol + anti-inflammatory) with the GP, and have come away with no solutions. The first time, with my regular GP, I asked for my pain meds to be reviewed, as I was finding that exercising in the gym was causing me too much pain, and that it was important for me to keep exercising, as I really need to lose weight and increase my fitness if I want to be able to work again and not end up with obesity-related illness(es). Her suggestion was that I start taking a weight-loss drug. However, as weight-loss medication is incompatible with my anti-depressant (where the main side-effect is weight-gain!!), she said I should talk to my psychiatrist about changing my anti-depressant. Apart from her having missed my point, I have no intention of changing my anti-depressant, as the last time I did that I got incredibly sick, and I'm still reeling from the fall-out from tha

In order to share my recent enlightening experience, I also have to share something mortifying. OK. So. "Sniff Break" at the shopping centre. On Saturday I went and got new tyres for my wheelchair, having worn them down to the threads. Nothing earth-shattering there, except that I found that having new, round tyres with tread on them meant that I could no longer actually move my wheelchair. This is because I've put on so much weight I now stop the wheels going around, with my big fat thighs. My old tyres were so worn down that I could still move the wheels, but even then one of the wheels would rub on the side of my leg, where the skirt protector is missing. So I found myself housebound, from being too fat. Horrifying, both from the fatness, and from the housebound-ness. I have been trying to lose weight for a long time, and although I have stopped putting it on, I'm finding it very difficult to lose anything of any significance. Anyway, in order to not

I've just washed my dishes, for no other reason than that they needed doing. There weren't very many, and it didn't take very long. This doesn't seem very remarkable, except that the state of my kitchen sink has long been an analogue for how my life is going. If things are going badly, my dishes don't get done, and everything is messy and horrid. If things are going well, they do get done, and everyone's happy. Over the past year it has become more physically challenging to do my dishes (and most things: my wrists and hands are stuffed), and as I would have already expended some of my already limited energy on cooking – hence the dirty dishes – I rarely had the energy to also clean up afterwards. So there would be dirty dishes. I don't leave my dishes in/around the sink because I just don't care about them, or can't be bothered; when I have limited physical resources, washing dishes becomes a low priority, compared, for instance, to lo