In preparing for battle, I have always found that plans are useless but planning is indispensable.

I am endeavouring to prepare some posts that wrap up Henry's birthday festivities, but remembered that I had forgotten to post something for today. As luck would have it, Ezra and I had just completed a photo shoot for a new line of Calvin Klein fragrance, and Calvin suggested that we use this one here of the little Aussie battler doing his "moody hunk" stare at the camera. Calvin is a big fan of Ezra's work, as he was of Henry until their falling out, and is looking to line him up as the face of 2009.

Comments

Uma por Dia said…

A new star was born :)

26 October 2008 at 23:32

Priyanka Khot said…

I would like to know more about the behind the scene gossip of what caused the fall out.

27 October 2008 at 03:09

USelaine said…

His purity is spellbinding. Spellbinding - I'll bet that's the name of the fragrance. Or the underwear.

27 October 2008 at 05:54

Neva said…

How adorable are we????

27 October 2008 at 08:20

Kris McCracken said…

Mary Jo, competition for Henry?

Priyanka, it involved women, fast cars, ego, money, the usual suspects!

Uselaine, that was one of the issues too!

Neva, some of us are. I saw a baby with a rotten head on the weekend though!

27 October 2008 at 15:04

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

This will hurt me...

Search This Blog