Tuesday, September 30, 2014


When I was an impressionable young law student, one academic at the ANU Law School stood out heads and shoulders above the rest. It was my Constitutional law lecturer, George Williams. If ever I were inclined to worship the ground upon which a lawyer walks (and I am being purely hypothetical here), George would be the one.

George, with his encyclopaedic knowledge of The Constitution and his quirky facts and anecdotes about the various Justices of the High Court, actually made the study of Constitutional law fun and interesting (Imagine that…The Constitution is actually fun and interesting!).

Yesterday, I saw George being quoted in a Fairfax news article. And it made me smile. Now a Professor at UNSW, George brought me back to the law lecture theatre in 1998 and reminded me (and other readers) that there is a provision in the Constitution that expressly prevents the Commonwealth from making laws that prohibit “the free exercise of religion”. It is section 116 – and both Jacqui Lambie and Cory Bernardi ought to read it.  

a trip to spa and gold country

I took the day off yesterday. My youngest sister is visiting from Canberra so Nathan and I took her to Daylesford for the day. We had a nice lunch at the Lake House, which turned into an unexpected celebration after I received news that I got promoted to Associate Professor (So, I'll officially be an Ass Pro next year). After lunch, we walked around town and visited several of the shops, which seem to fall into three categories based on the stuff they sell: art, soap and handwash, and bric-a-brac.

After we got tired of all the art, soap and second hand junk that Daylesford had to offer, we decided to drive to Ballarat. I love Ballarat. It is such a beautiful town. We got there quite late and concerned about being stuck in peak hour on the way home, decided it was probably best to have dinner there so we headed to the Craig's Hotel, which is kinda fancy (except for the poker machines).  I had a scallop ceviche for starter and a delicious slow roasted pork belly that was almost too big a portion to finish (almost).

Monday, September 22, 2014


The dog has fleas. Truffles has been scratching herself so I decided to take a closer look this morning. I flipped her onto her back and inspected her tummy near where she had been licking herself and caught sight of a flea scuttling away. Faaark.

The infestation is, of course, entirely Nathan's fault since he was the one responsible for administering the dog's flea preventative treatments (and ensuring that they were up to date, which I suspected they weren't).

Naturally, I did the worst thing possible...I started looking up information on the internet. The information I read sent me into a mild panic because I was now concerned the entire house may be festooned with the little parasites (and the idea of flea bombing the apartment was not especially appealing). Anyhow, Nathan and I both needed to dash off to catch the train so we decided we'd discuss what to do later.

Once we boarded the train and took our seats, I began telling Nathan about the hassle we would need to go through to get rid of the infestation from the apartment. I could tell – as all attentive partner's can – that he thought I was being a drama queen.

But then, something miraculous happened. Right on cue, a tiny flea larva crawled across a paper bag I was bringing to work. I gently picked up the larva with my index finger to show Nathan. And just as I was holding the tiny little thing and positioning my finger so that Nathan could get a better look, it launched itself from the tip of my finger onto Nathan's jumper. The demonstration worked perfectly...Nathan spent the afternoon washing the dog and cleaning the house.  

Saturday, September 13, 2014

the accusation

Nathan and I noticed a small, light coloured patch on Truffles' lip last week. Naturally, being hypochondriac dog owners, we took her to the vet.

Vet: It's definitely not a tumour...It looks more like a cigarette burn.
(Seriously, did the vet just accuse me of torturing our dog?)

Me (defensively): That's impossible. We don't smoke. And she lives inside the apartment.


I can't even begin to imagine  how the heavy weights at this toy company were persuaded it would be a great idea to manufacture dolls that 'magically poop charms' which kids then collect and wear as bracelets.