Friday, September 19, 2008

Chip thief

Do you think it's bad that I keep eating the chips bought as therapy incentives for students at school? I don't believe in food as a reward anyway. So there.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

real smiles

Today I realised something about my students. When they smile they mean it. They don't know how to fake a smile or fake happiness. When they smile their eyes crinkle at the edges, so I know they are real.

Flowers




I've decided to always have flowers in my house. It would be great to have flowers in every room, but at the moment three arrangements suffice. They all have a story. Yellow easter lilies given to me by mum when I was blue, white daisies rescued from a dying bunch from Coles and white arum lilies from a roadside sale at a whim.

Riding blind





So on Saturday we rode Seacliff to Henley. The nature of this route is that you can only ride part the way along the beach and the best part of the trip along the backstreets of Brighton, the patawalonga and busy Military Road. The head wind was insane on the trip there and we got there just in time for a glass of wine and dinner with the setting sun. The way back was more perilous in the dark with no bike lights, but it made the bumps and dips in the road an exhilarating surprise everytime. Still, I think I prefer the horses, river, wilderness and playgrounds of the linear park ride.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

stolen

Ok, so today I went back to work after being away for two days. You'd think two days absence would not warrant the pilfering of my specialised OT resources. Why oh why would anyone remove the projector wheel and not replace it with a new one (and especially being my favourite one where the light heats up the coloured liquid oils and projects them in patterns on the wall). And who took my step ladder? Actually if I find out who took the step ladder then maybe I can find the person who used that step ladder to reach the projector to remove the colour wheel.

And who is letting the kids bite through the gel filled balls so that the gooey highly TOXIC contents spill over the equipment to leave a glue like residue? And what the hell is that dry white drippy pattern on the mats under the swing? And if I have to turn off the freaking heater in that room when I leave at 5'o clock one more time I will be hiding the remote!

Oh and what did I do wrong to wait 3 years to get an office, only to have to share it with 4 early 20's speech pathology students who sing hokey pokey and Old Macdonald with inserted words as a 'preparation' for their therapy sessions whilst I am on the PHONE!!! Seriously what is with uni students these days, haven't they learnt respectful workplace practices for goodness sake! In my day I was so scared of my supervisor (who by the way was frightful) I ate lunch by myself in the therapy kitchen!

Grrr, I just want things to run smoothly, I want equipment to be where I left it or at least someone could leave a note so I can track its journey. And why do I have to wait a week for the maintenance man to screw a flopping pin wheel projector to a shelf when I have waited 8 weeks for it to arrive from the UK and I'm itching to use it?

I'm sorry but the sensory room is far from relaxing right now!


Sunday, September 7, 2008

adventures

This weekend I had two adventures. They were adventures because I did not plan or calculate the arrival at the end result. I was not in control of the process. On saturday I took a bike ride along the Torrens linear park from the city to henley beach with a friend. The trip took a little longer than expected and we arrived in the early evening to have a meal at henley square. Not feeling brave enough to tackle the hour ride back in the dark past cemetaries and secluded underpasses we realised we had other options to determine our fate. Ride back long anzac highway where at least there was light, ride to glenelg and catch the tram back to the city, or find the nearest train station. We chose the latter, after consulting the trusty iphone for measures of proximity. Just as we pulled up to the station, the train came in and we hopped on board. There is something highly organic about public transport, but in particular trains. They glide in and out of stations like animals transitioning habitats, they have no master, drivers are invisible and therefore unconsidered. Semingly free-willed, they just gently amble through suburbs with us settled in their bellies, lulled by their rhythmic force.

The whole process of the day was completely spontaneous and evolutionary but we arrived at the expected product, our own homes at the end of the day none-the-less. I continue to wonder why I have such little trust in the maker of the universe to write my story when the rewards of letting go are so freeing. Take my pencil.

Adventure two happened at the adelaide show. Unlikely backdrop I know. We were settled down at the end of a tiring day of agricultural ogling, watching a 'mentalist' show when 10 minutes into his act the skies opened and the gods emptied their dishwater. Never the less, this poor mystical sod kept rambling about finding the playing card with the random audience members name on it, long after the speakers had been moved out of the down pour and the stage receded under the shelter beyond viewing capacity. The rain was heavy and unrelenting, and it seemed we were the only souls crazy enough to traipse through the puddles mixed with softened cow manure and skirt around the streams running over poorly irrigated ashphalt. The crowds peered out from behind toilet walls and cow sheds, watching these tragic figures with their bright umbrellas and splashy sneakers blink back raindrops in their forge ahead. I'm glad I was the one soaked to the skin, completely sensory-saturated and knowing I was alive. I'm ready for the next adventure.