centenial post... part 2!

So, I worked my butt off you guys.
I stopped at 1pm for a lunch of eggs and toast. Yum.
Then I was back to it.
Then Nic came home and we went to Bunnings because I had to buy plants (of course).
And he has decided that we need a futon in there so he can come in and hang out because it wasn't the Middle-Eastern-Shisha-Smoking-Hangout-Den that he had envisaged from my original post (go figure) but that it was just an Office. Em's office where Nic could iron clothes but nothing else.
So, futon, cushions and maybe something on the big red wall of empty and I think it'll be awesome.
At the moment, the picture frame is empty but it's there for effect.
So, I present, the finished product of a day's labor:

My God, you can actually see the floor.

So, it may or may not work, but at least it's a space with plants, and photos, and it doesn't have my back to the door (yuck) and I can look out the window and there is a spare, empty wall with an ironing board against it there, for a futon, you just can't actually see it at the moment.

My prediction for how long the clean will last? Not very. But you have to start somewhere, right?

centenial post...!

You guys, this is my 100th post!

I was standing in the shower racking my brains over something cool to do. Do I start some kind of feature? No ideas there. Then I remembered I'd forgotten about Favourite-Things-Monday (which, by the way, I think needs a better title) so I might do that after I do this.
Then I began thinking of the fact that later I have to do some study for Uni (in the first week?! Yes, I am that much of an awesome student. A colleague from Uni already feels deep, deep shame because I've read an article and she has not.) and my heart sank.
I thought aboot going in to the so-called 'Office' (or, more fondly: the pile-of-shit room) and it depressed me.
Deeply.
And I thought: Well hell, how am I going to do study when I can't bring myself to a) clean the room of my own accord, or b) go in there. I certainly can't do an entire year's worth of work with the laptop on my lap (especially with macs and their sharp edges which after a while make your wrists look like that of an emo teenager. Anyone with a mac knows what I'm talking about.)
And then I thought; I need to clean that damned room!
And then....! I thought, what better motivation than a before-and-after picture. And what if I do it properly, like, not just clean up, but actually make that space part of our house. Like, put a plant in there (I love having plants. My house would be a jungle, given half the chance. No kidding. Nic has to drag me away from the indoor fern section at Bunnings (uh, I guess same as Home Depot...? Maybe?) and Ikea every time we go), and photos, and not just cram the bookshelf full of the random nick-nacks that I don't really like, but put some of the things I do like in there as well.
So, I present to you....
The before shot.

99 bottles of beer

My next post will be my 100th on this blog!
I feel like making this one a write-off so that I can get to 100, but I'll try not to.
Consequently, it probably will end up being a write-off, but not intentionally.

This is not my cat. This cat is too smart to be my cat. This cat could take on Dr. Mallei*. {via}

Have you ever seen a completely blissed-out kitten? (Or cat?). I mean, a kitten (or cat) that is in so much luxury that it doesn't know what to do with itself?
I think it's hilarious.
Since the nights recently started getting a little chilly, now that it's officially autumn here, it was cool enough to pull out a blanket Dad gave me when I was much younger. We called it a "mink blanket", because it feels like faux-mink fur, I guess. Super soft on one side, a bit longer but less velvety on the other side. It's blue, and has dolphins on it. It's crazy warm and great for couch cuddles. Anyway, we pulled this out the other night, and I put Reya on it.
I think her brain exploded a little.
Instantly, her eyes glazed over, half-closing in ecstasy as she starts working her little feet in that kitteny-kneading motion. Pad pad pad. The same one that she does to my throat every single morning at 5.30am (not kidding.) The purr starts - nobody's patting her, this is self induced pleasure. Sometimes it gets too much for her and she wants her whole self to be enveloped by this soft luxury and so tries to find a fold in the blanket, into which she rams her head. She can't make herself comfortable lying on it though, because she wants every part of her to be one with the blankety goodness, and so kind of lounges back and forth, unsettled, still kneading away with her paws, face being mushed into the blanket, eyes closing. Sometimes she springs onto it accidentially, on the way to somewhere else, and it stops her dead in her tracks, like:
"HOLY CRAP, THE SOFTNESS!!!" And her brain explodes a little again, and she starts the purr, and can't bring herself to continue on to where ever she was going before she was trapped by the blanket.

I realize I'm about to make this post all about the two furkids, but there's one other funny thing.

Mr. Sensitive-Sooky-Trouble-Face is so... well, sensitive. He'll be lying, sleeping, next to me on the couch. Reya will be doing something naughty, I dunno, chewing a plant, or playing with the computer cords, or finding another one of my hair-ties somewhere ("Didn't I put this away 5 minutes ago!? In a closed cupbpard!?!"), and I'll give her a bit of a hiss, to get her to stop. Or go: "Oi!"
And Mallei, thinking he's, for some reason, in trouble for sleeping, gets up all of a sudden and runs off. Ok, so he can't differentiate between when I'm telling her off, or him off, though I never hissed at him, he still seems affected by it, but still, seriously? You're sleeping here, I'm not that bad at yelling at you.
But then we get to kiss (figuratively), and make up. And have happy couch cuddle times.

And now the two of them are having mutual lick sessions, whereby the kitten grooms Mallei's face, cos it has short fur, and he just licks her everywhere until she's slobbery. It's very cute, and kind of funny.

Not quite as dramatic as this. {via}

Also, in other news, I had a maths class this morning.
Maths, you guys.
Not that we did any actual maths.
Then I cycled home.
It took me 10 minutes more to get home via bike than it does to drive in and park (have I said this already? If so, sorry). I think if I don't take the dirt trail through the nice park but instead stick to a small sort of side road, it'll be quicker still since my bike + roads = awesome, bike + dirt bikepaths = not so hot. (See, maths.)
And, FYI, in Australia, maths is plural (mathematics anyone?), so I will be writing maths, not 'math', cos that's what makes sense to me.

Possibly not the right attitude to bring into the classroom. Mantra this semester: Maths is good. Maths is good. Maths is good. {via}

And now I'm going to sit around in my underwear for 3 hours (did you need to know this? Possibly not), and then I'm going to cycle the 9km back to Uni for my 3pm class. Joy! It'll be super good for me though. I figure, people say interval training is the best cardio way of losing fat. What's cycling, but extended, random intervals? You cycle up-hill, get puffed, cruise down the other side while you have a rest, maybe go on flat, resting, go fast to beat traffic, get puffed, rest... etc. It is, I suppose, a much more 'natural' form of interval training than sprinting for 30 seconds, jogging for 2 mins, sprinting for 30 secs, jogging for 2 mins.  Plus it'll be less evil on my knees. Bonus.
And that's all.


What should I do for my 100th post!? I feel like it should be something interesting or special or awesome or different, or all 3. Ideas?


*Which, yes, he was meant to write on Saturday (thanks Nic), and I/he will get to soon.

where have my ideas gone?

 They're little monsters, I tell you. {via}

So yes, I've missed a couple of days of posting this week, and I don't really have an excuse apart from the one I already used post-school-visit, and also that Nic was home 'sick' yesterday as he had errands to run that couldn't be run on weekends.
I was meaning to write about my first actual proper volunteer day at the school. I think they're pretty happy to have me there, after all, I'm not some random parent who just wants to spy on the teacher to make sure they're doing their job properly, I'm a trained/training University student who has done her own study on democratic education, which they tout themselves to be all about. Here was my first introduction to the school.
As a bit more of a background than I provided there, the school is tiny- there are 40 students, from age 4 or 5 to I guess 12, would be the max. There are 2 class buildings, with 2 rooms each- 4 classrooms. The classes aren't known as "Year 4" or "Grade 3", but by the first name of the teacher looking after that class. If I had one, it'd be "Emily's group". The year 5/6 class have given themselves a name: The outback dingoes. This is because they're studying animals, but gets confusing with the year 3/4 class, which are the Desert Dingoes. Go figure.
There is a tiny library, where they do Auslan (Australian sign language) lessons once or twice a week for about 30 minutes.
There is no bell, instead the teacher wandering the grounds on duty usually checks her watch, finds a student nearby, and asks them to help her tell everybody it's time to come in. They then start walking around together yelling and singing:
"Time to come in, everyone." And, as the call goes up, more and more kids run around singing this at the top of their lungs.
Slowly, they trickle toward their classrooms, but there's no penalty for being late, no overseer to yell at them to hurry up. Not surprisingly, they all make it back to class, and they all do it within about 10 minutes of each other. Meanwhile, those arriving first have already started working, or if they're younger, they're playing with each other or petting the class animals.
So, in all this, it's an 'alternative school'.

really!? that's fantastic...!

 {via}

Today was my first full day volunteering at the Primary School.
As so often is the case of starting something/somewhere new, particularly, I've found, teaching, my brain is fried.
We didn't make it to the gym tonight. Too tired.
But I have many education-things I want to write, which I've managed to scribble on a bit of paper.
Needless to say, I spent the afternoon with 'prep' kids, which are the 4-5-6 year olds in their very first year of school, who are learning their ABCs and still have velcro shoes because they don't tie shoelaces yet (and STILL ask me for help getting their shoes on), and with whom it doesn't matter if they do their art a different way- it's not wrong, there is no wrong, because it's art, and who still love, and get excited about story time.
And as exhausted as I am, and as sick of being enthusiastic about every little thing, and as old as the "oh my! is there a spider on my back!?" game, every time they decided to try and 'trick' me by making spiders with their hands, we had fun. And, hello, when was the last time anyone remembers school being fun???
But more about that tomorrow, it's time for bed.

{via}

i'm not cut out to be a housewife..

Wednesday.
Middle of the week.
Three-quarters of the way through my Centrelink-imposed-holiday.
2 weekdays and a weekend to go before I have to start seriously thinking about readings, and study, and buying uni books, and finding my pencil-case and/or getting a new one.
So far this week I've managed to:
-Volunteer to vaccuum
-Volunteer to make a pie (wtf)
-Volunteer to plant stuff.
-Volunteer to make granola & granola bars (did this, yesterday)
-Volunteer to clean the office. It's our "pile-of-shit-room", and I really need to make it nice so I feel inclined to write assignments.
-Get asked to put washing on (two loads, done)
-Get asked to clean up after aforementioned granola-making festival.
I feel like there was a lot more on this list but I don't remember what else there was.
Progress so far:
-Granola & bars made.
-Washing done, 1 load hung out.
-Dishwasher on.
-Stuff planted.
-Nap taken.
-An hour or so spent staring into space while the kitten slept with her paw on my face.
-Cycled 14.4 km (8.9 miles) in 47 mins this morning (by the way, anybody on here have RunKeeper??? Want to be on my street team, for awesome motivation and peering at stats and so on? I'm there as Orimallei. Also if you would like to play Words with friends, next time I'm stuck under a kitten, you can also add me, as Orimallei).
-Fixed Nic's bike (well, the guys at the shop did, but I had to walk there).
-Made, then ate chicken soup.
-Watched the animals playing.
-Learned how to spell exercise (this one's been bugging me for a long time. It wasn't necessary (HA) that I spell exercise (TAKE THAT), but I did.)
-Read a lot of blogs. Added some new ones to my reader. Peered at my reader hoping one of my favourites updated.

So, does anybody notice the distinct lack of actual cleaning things, or things that were on my task list? I mean, looking at it written out it doesn't look so bad, and the point of being home is to stare into space and play iphone games mostly, right?
But my point is, is that once I did get around to cleaning the house (hypothetically), I'd then be so bored our of my brains that I think I'd exercise myself into oblivion.
Or just write a hundred million blog posts. Though the one I wrote yesterday was too depressing and whiny, hence why it didn't show up here.
And that, friends, is why I'd be no good at being a housewife, and I hope to get a hundred WWF (not world wide fund, or world wrestling federation... argh!) requests.
Here is a picture, from yesterday's productive day, when I napped, and then stared into space until my arm felt like it might have been going numb (I am super weird about this. I don't know if it's just me, but I hate it. If I feel like my arm/leg/hand/whatever is going numb, I have to move. Even if it isn't. Even if it's just a slight inkling of numb... I think maybe I picture the circulation being completely stopped to that appendage, and therefore it turning black and falling off. While I'm asleep. Or busy staring into space. Numb=NO!)*

I wasn't asleep, since I took the picture. But it looked nicer than me zoning off like a zombie.

*I just realized that this post may have turned into a rambly pile of crap. Well, maybe I'll get some more street team ppl, or WWF people, which can't hurt. Unless y'all stalk me through my maps and stuff. Hmmmmmm....

you're a blight on my life...!

My tomatoes are dying.
Remember the beautiful green mass that was our tomato patch?
It is no more.
Melbourne had so much rain in the past couple of months- it was the 5th wettest year on record, and I think most of that came in Jan/Feb. So, it mightn't have been so bad if it was a rainy, rainy winter, but it was a year's worth of rain in a couple of months... and since I've read somewhere that tomatoes aren't great fans of water on their leaves, and to water them from the ground... well, I don't think they're too pleased.

We weren't this bad, but it was pretty wet. 

At first it was like; YAY! 

Now it's like: Booooooo...

So, between what I assume is blight (I have no idea, I'm making stuff up here), and birds eating my tomatoes when they're a day or two off ripe (despite having rigged up my strawberry-saving AntiBird system) I'm feeling a bit sad about my tomatoes. I know, it's autumn now and they're probably not meant to actually last that much longer, but there were just so many more we could have eaten. Here's some photographic evidence, and a new Anti-Bird system I'm trying out.

 

Ok so this looks like a bit of a mess, but basically the whole right side of my tomato patch is sort of dying, and the left is not as bad but still pretty bad and there are foil flags hanging everywhere to scare off blackbirds. Also there is basil. Much basil.

 I had to move my raspberries from on the wall of the veggie garden because I couldn't reach their tops any more. The big one is the one I actually got fruit off in its first year, and the smaller one is the one I thought was diseased and was going to die but actually looks really good now. The big one is probably 30cm off the roof-line now.

 

The rest of my garden. Some very sickly capsicums that didn't want to grow, zucchinis gone mad (and with rain spots on their leaves), lots of lettuce, spinach, leeks, a mess of spring onions, rhubarb and the tomatoes in the background. Did I plant too much? Possibly. 

As promised, a new Anti-Bird system. I wanted a picture with his front paws on the wood wall, but he always takes things too far. Then I armed him with which looks like a really serious knife but is actually a mini spade. But he looks ferocious all the same (or would like to think so, anyway). Can you tell he only holds things in his mouth out of duress/because I ask him to?

Meanwhile, every time I go into the garden, with or without Mallei, the kitten meows and squeaks and climbs the screen door. It's so pathetic, and she's so mewy and cute. I had my camera with me this time so I took a little clip of her. She didn't climb the door today though, just squeaked. This is pretty much the only time she meows- sometimes she just opens her mouth, and no sound comes out. This is when she wants food, or cuddles, or something I don't understand. It's only a minute long. Also there is Mallei, looking bored with his bird-protection duties, and me saying "Hey dude" and "Stupid tomatoes". Please excuse the sound of building in the background, and also enjoy the sounds of Australian bird life, if you're not from around here. There are crows, and magpies.