Skip to main content

Life has improved, comrades. Life has become more joyous.



Someone approached Henry in the supermarket this morning and asked, "is it a boy or girl?" Yes, this is a fellow who makes Steve McQueen look like Anne of Green Gables, Rambo look like Mary Poppins and (in an Olympic theme) Crocodile Dundee look like Ian Thorpe (too cruel?)

All I can say is that if you are confusing Henry's sex at twenty-one months, God help you with all but little pink bundles covered in glitter complete with angel's wings attached!

Today's photo features the two comrades sharing a joke and a manly hug. They are getting on like a house on fire, but Ezra appears to be picking up some of the distinctly Henry traits that we've come to know and love tolerate: an enormous appetite; the will power of a willful donkey; and the volume of a 747 jet upon take-off.

It's a good thing that they are so lovely!

Comments

Sue said…
My new wallpaper pic....
Unknown said…
So cute! Very nice shot, indeed!
Greetings
Anonymous said…
Priceless.
 gmirage said…
Very lovable shot!

Yah, maybe people have color-blindness. I always had my son wear blue clothes and they ask if he is a girl...and the hair would also say a kid's gender most of the time!
freefalling said…
Funny.
Sadly, there ARE little girls who look like front row forwards ( i think that's a rugby reference not an aussie rules one) - so it's always good to check!
Anonymous said…
Fantastic picture - I'd frame that one..

Everyone thinks Evie is a boy because of her hair 'issues' ;)

Hence she is nearly always in pink because she gets upset when people call her a boy.... Poor moppet
Neva said…
awwww this is such a cute photo....and it's a darn good thing they are so cute otherwise we would try and send them back....lovely.

Popular posts from this blog

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. ...