Skip to main content

(My) photo of the day


Here is a koala. Koalas are an Australian marsupial, but are not found in the wild in Tasmania (or Western Australia). This koala lives at ZooDoo, which is just outside Hobart in the town of Richmond. I managed to get right next to this little lady and snap off a picture. If you’ve got littlies, or just like animals, I’d heartily recommend a visit to ZooDoo. You can get in close to most of their animals, and the kids can touch and have their picture taken with pretty much anything there (although I don’t think they let you for a play with their new pair of Bengal Tigers!

The Koala is sort of like a Wombat that lives in a tree. Wombats are their closest living relatives, but koalas have a thicker coat, much larger ears and longer limbs. They also have large, sharp claws to assist with climbing tree trunks.

We have plenty of wombats in the wild down here in Tassie. But, please, don't get worried. I’ve never heard of wombats OR koalas acting out in the strange manner that one New Zealander has claimed that a particular wombat has recently. Indeed, the headline pretty much says it all:

Man Claims to Speak 'Australian' After Allegedly Being Raped by Wombat

Suffice to say, they are an odd mob, New Zealanders!

Comments

Dina said…
Wombats and koalas look so loveable. And it's just fun to say wombat. About the Kiwis: no comment!
Nathalie H.D. said…
No koalas in Tassie ? But they're all over the place in Victoria just across Bass Strait! I had no idea you had none.

Now for the kiwi raped by a wombat... all we need now is an Aussie starting to speak like a new zealander after having "six" with a kiwi bird!
Kunterbunt said…
Oh, I'm astonished, they are in zoos now over there at your place. I thought they are wild animals that belong to 'down under'. I see, I know little about your place and have to learn a lot.
Kris McCracken said…
Well, ZooDoo isn't so much like a zoo as you might expect. Very 'open plan'. As I said, koalas aren't native to Tasmania, so the only place that we can see them are in wildlife sanctuaries.

I don't know why we don't have koalas here, you'd think they would have made their way across when Bass Strait wasn't Bass Strait. But then again, there are no Tassie Devils on the mainland! I think that maybe they are just lazy.

Little kiwis wouldn't rape Australians, maybe take us out on a date for 'fesh und cheps', holding out for a little 'six' afterwards. It'd be 'choice'!
Chuck Pefley said…
Excellent photo of the koala. Thanks for visiting my blog today. I agree ... staying in bed when there's snow flying is a tempting idea -:)
smilnsigh said…
She is a pretty lady. And so very obliging for having her pic taken. :-)
Kris McCracken said…
They can get cranky, but I've yet to see it.
That'd be 'sux' nathalie, with some bad connotations no doubt. Jeepers it's a bit rough when one of one's compatriots acts like a berk or, as Kris' uncompromising label says, fuckwit. Still every nation has then, doesn't it? What's the going epithet for Bob Hawke or John Howard these days?
Kris McCracken said…
No-one seems to talk about John Howard much these days, embarrassed I think! Hawke's legacy has been revived a bit. He is still a silly old bastard, but given the fair run economically that Australia has had since 1994, I think that people may have realised that the Hawke-Keating reform agenda may have actually worked as well as could be expected. It certainly compares favorably to similar-sized nations.

I wouldn't get too worried about the fellow who got raped by the wombat. As he said, he withdrew the charge when the wombat withdrew, and his bum seems to be alright!

Popular posts from this blog

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut