Compostable Kate

This is not my own work, but something I received as an email forward.  You think English is easy?? (This took a lot of work to put together - read all the way to the end.... :-) 1) The bandage was wound around the wound. 2) The farm was used to produce produce . 3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse . 4) We must polish the Polish furniture.. 5) He could lead if he would get the lead out. 6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.. 7) Since there is no time like the present , he thought it was time to present the present . 8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum. 9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes. 10) I did not object to the object. 11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid. 12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row . 13) They were too close to the door to close it. 14) The buck does funny things when the does are present. 15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into...

I haven't fallen literally on my arse for at least two weeks (had a bit of an incident in the shower at Hotel KaznSteve , but it didn't even leave a bruise, so it's hardly worth mentioning), but I have well and truly fallen down in a metaphorical sense. Fallen down and scraped both knees, and even though I'm 40 years old, I feel like crying to Mum about it. I came to this uni course full of confidence, straight from a job I felt I was good at, to do something that I was sure I would be great at. I felt that the stars and planets had all aligned to make my high school teaching ambitions come true, on the second time of trying. I was available, and – at QUT at least – qualified. I could get financial assistance from Centrelink (Austudy is more generous than Newstart, so it would marginally easier to survive without working). Friends and family all thought it was a great idea. Then I started. By the time I got over the physical shock of uni life I had fallen...

Another Monday rolls around, another 5am wake-up (although I'd been awake since 4am, having been woken by the sound of Fred (I think) heaving up another furball (which I can't find)), leaving the house at 6.30am, after carefully checking that there was nothing remotely edible left out on the benches. I got to uni in time for a brief pre-lecture coffee and muffin (they had the coffee, I had the muffin) with some classmates, and the 8am session went by quite well, with some interesting presentations from colleagues (the most memorable of which was the part presented in "Alien" to demonstrate what it would be like to not speak English). In the hour gap between that and the next lecture I went along to the Field Studies (prac) office, to get the contact details of my school. I hadn't heard back, and was supposed to have done a day's observation last Friday. It turns out that the person I contacted is away on holidays; I was put onto someone else. However, when I...

If I'm not studying, it's generally because I'm stuffing around, procrastinating. I don't know why I do this, and although I know I do this, I can't seem to stop myself. I have to go through I certain amount of time-wasting activity before I can sit myself down and apply myself to my work. This is usually about the time that I only have half the time I need to complete the assignment that's already late. Go, me. Procrastination activities are often also things that I put off doing until I have something else to do that I want to do even less. I may have already procrastinated to avoid one of my future procrastination activities. I am a many-layered, multi-leveled procrastinator. Most common procrastination activities: 1. Sleeping . I never need a nap more than when I have an assigment due. 2. Eating . I read once that we think better when we're chewing. 3. Playing Scrabble/Words with Friends on facebook . It's not fair to keep people waiting. ...

I thought I had done a terrible, terrible thing in my 2nd week of house-sitting for Karen and Steve (and their two dogs, Fudge and JJ, and two cats, Midnight and Pepper), when I left out a half-full container of butter, which JJ managed to get hold of (probably with Midnight's help) and cleaned out. The butter, in turn, cleaned JJ out - mostly on the carpet in the spare bedroom where I'm staying. Dexter investigated the buttery, barf-pattery puddle and consequently got regurgitated butter on his ears. I couldn't get the stain out of the carpet, and thought the smell of rancid butter on JJ's and Dexter's was the worst smell, ever . I could not have been more wrong! A week later (on another Monday, when I leave for uni at 6.30am and don't get back until 5pm), I came home to discover that the dogs had got hold of a large tub of 400 super-strength fish oil capsules, and EATEN THEM ALL. There was oil EVERYWHERE.  Fudge only had oily ears, but JJ was covered in it...

I still have doubts about my ability to pass this course, but at least now I am physically managing this uni lark. For the first couple of weeks, if I wasn't at class I was asleep. The physical effort of getting around campus, sitting in my wheelchair all day, and all that concentrating (and confusion) were exhausting. Because I was so tired, and so asleep, I was behind in reading and assignment preparation from the outset. I was also hampered by not having any text books until 2 weeks into the semester (I had no money until then) and my chronic inability to focus or apply myself to studying outside of classes. Now that I am in Week 5, I am much more accustomed to the physical requirements, and my fatigue levels seem to be similar to when I was working (ie tolerable). Although it's come too late to get any of my first assignments in on time (I have extensions for all three; one since submitted), I am at least in a position to try to catch up. I no longer have to sleep until F...

In one of my uni classes we were asked to share a poem we wrote when we were younger. As we were all English Lit graduates, we had all written poetry at some point.  I went to find my poems, feeling sure that I'd find at least a couple of them in my trunk, that reservoir of my memories. I found the right journal immediately, and after flicking through it a bit, found that I had put a small collection of my poems in the back of the book. There were seven, including one that I thought I had lost completely. Just in case I do lose them, I'm going to put them here. Don't feel obliged to read them - or critique them! The Block of Flats The sun is a shimmering wave of heat, Beating relentlessly on the red brick walls Of the block of flats. The still air is thick with humidity; Behind the silence is the hum of traffic, Vast distances away, For a moment there is a slight bustling, A baby cries; a blast of music; a door slams; A slight wind moves paper. The fl...