(My) Photo of the day, Or, On the natural wonders of Geilston Bay

I have had an extraordinarily busy day today, so I've had to dig into the grab bag of pictures and fished out this summer shot of a creature slowly moving across our backyard.

Somehow Jen conjured up this varmint out of a couple of balls of wool. Unfortunately, she'll have to be punished for such witchcraft.

UPDATE

If you have clicked on the comments, you will note that Jen has posted a link to the pattern for this turtle. I thought that it might be best to bring this into the post itself. So, as my lovely and talented wife has pointed out, anyone interested in knitting their own turtle can find the free pattern here!

Comments

Olivier said…

superbe cette tortue ;o)) elle est amusante. J'aime beaucoup

superb this turtle ;o)), it's fun. I love

20 May 2008 at 03:06

blackie said…

hey I think I've seen that little dude or one like him somewhere before. He is a tough little nut capable of surviving extreme wet and windy conditions...in the washing machine. Doesn't mind having his leg chewed either

20 May 2008 at 08:30

Kris McCracken said…

I had heard that he'd made his way to South Hobart. I'm glad to hear that he's taking a good battering, as all toys should!

20 May 2008 at 08:58

Unknown said…

I love turtles and he is cute!

20 May 2008 at 12:57

jen said…

thanks. anyone interested in knitting their own turtle can find the free pattern here!

20 May 2008 at 14:27

vero said…

This turtle is very very nice!!

21 May 2008 at 03:51

Dina said…

What a sweet turtle. Thanks Jen. Now, if you could just teach me how to knit . . .

21 May 2008 at 16:29

Helen said…

Ah Kris - you are a lucky man. You married a knitter! I'm so making that turtle. Thanks for the link to the pattern Jen.

23 May 2008 at 01:59

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...

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

This will hurt me...

Search This Blog