Thursday, 10 August 2006

Excuses, excuses

Well, there is the teaching of the three subjects: you knew about that. I might not have mentioned that all the books (bar one) for the unit I am teaching by myself failed to arrive in the bookshop, so there was a frantic rearrangement of that unit (into a form that makes a lot less sense, mind you) and much grey-area photocopying of the shorter set texts and rewriting of essay topics. We now *think* the rest of the books will turn up in the nick of time - and if they don't then Narrative Analysis will suddenly take an unforeseen twist and turn into a subject about Hitchcock movies. Or something else available on video.

There is also the commissioned book chapter on nineteenth century illustrations to Jane Austen's novels (December 2006), and there is also the International Jane Austen conference (December 2007). And the multicampus teaching & learning project. (February.) All of which I am working on alongside other people (which makes it both easier and harder.)

There is the half-finished journal article and the conference paper committed to but yet to be thought about in any serious way, and the really nebulous but enticing prospect of writing something more substantial about Melbourne's sculpture in public places.

There is the subset of stuff I don't really have time for but don't care and will continue to do anyway: the Patrick White read in September, occasional posts here and at Sarsaparilla, and my ongoing commitment to watching The Bill twice a week and eating dinner in the food court at Northland on Thursday evenings.

Then there's my thesis which I am going to finish, come hell or high water, by the beginning of the next teaching semester.


ThirdCat said...

And the dishes. There's always the dishes.

Lucy Tartan said...

I let the cat lick those clean. He's such a helpful boy.

TimT said...

What is your thesis subject?

TimT said...

Also, we used to have a fox terrier called Bella who used to lick our dishes clean. At first Mum wouldn't let her, but she was cunning; she'd hide away under the table, inveigling* her way into our presence, and we would surreptitiously feed her scraps of food. In a few years, the scraps had graduated to empty plates and dishes.

Hopefully she's doing the same trick at the dinner table of the angels now. :(

* I'm not entirely sure what the word 'inveigle' means, but it sounded right.

Lucy Tartan said...

Film adaptation.

dogpossum said...

You are a teaching machine.
In fact, I'm flabbergasted. When do you take time to count kitties in the street (right now I can see a heavily pregnant small grey cat waddling down the pavement)?

Zoe said...

Laura you could save 700 hours a year by not watching The Bill. In fact I'm surprised to know there's someone under 60 (other than my friend Row) who still watches it.

Ampersand Duck said...

I'm with Zoe on that one. Life got easier and a lot more fun when I replaced it with Spicks and Specks.

I remember being in a class when all the texts hadn't arrived and weren't even in view. It didn't worry us, but I'm sure it stressed the teacher. The fact that I can't remember what the course was on is probably deeply significant.