(My) photo of the day, Or In you I put all my faith and trust right before my eyes my world has turned to dust...

If you think that you have the key to unlock that title, please send the answer on a postcard (or maybe just leave it in the comments).

Now I hope that the title of this post will strain your brain more than the challenge of guessing the subject of today's photo. Regular readers should pick it with no trouble! For the answer, please refer to here and here.

I have been pushed writing up the final report for the project that I am finishing up, and will endevour to post something more substantial soon! I got the new job I may have mentioned, which is good, because Henry will have food to eat well into the future.

Vive Henry! Vive le nouvel emploi! Vive la nourriture dans l'ensemble de nos ventres!

Comments

Jules said…

I thought is was a church (steeple etc) but had to go for a wee peek - so now i know.

21 May 2008 at 21:01

Anonymous said…

Nice sunset reflection. I like it.

21 May 2008 at 21:22

Anonymous said…

An interesting way of looking at the subject of the photo - I wish i had of thought of that :-)

21 May 2008 at 23:01

stromsjo said…

Good luck then with new job, new design and all the rest. Henry will appreciate the whole package!

22 May 2008 at 04:08

Dina said…

Mazal tov on getting the good new job. Bon travail.

22 May 2008 at 06:10

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...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

Search This Blog