Canberra: Why wait for death?

This title was taken from the Bill Bryson book, Down Under. Yes, there is quite a tradition to slagging Canberra! Before I get back to Canberra, I better acknowledge the fact that the photo is not from that fine town, but an action shot of Henry in motion. I figured that even reading about Canberra is dull enough to kill elephants, so I'd best give you folks something interesting to look at.

So I did finally make it to Canberra! As you can see in the photograph below, the whole plane is absolutely over the moon at the prospect of a day in such an exciting place.

Some people reckon that the name "Canberra" means 'meeting place' in the Ngunnawal language, with reference to the various transcriptions of Kambera (alternatively spelt Kamberra, Nganbra or Nganbirra). However, my sources - high up in the indigenous community - reckons that this is a mistranslation. They claim that the actual meaning of the name is "cake eating" (at a meeting). They attribute this mistranslation to the fact that "a guy was sick that day".

I can believe that.

So that wraps up my discourse on Canberra. I did consider taking a few snaps of the city itself, but didn't.

The circumstances and reasoning behind that decision are multifaceted and complex. In order to keep things interesting - and again, we're talking Canberra here - I have given you the choice of the most palatable option for yourself. Pick the one that most satisfies you, and we'll be right!

a) I ran out of film.
b) I couldn't be arsed.
c) Work, work, work...
d) It's Canberra! Why on Earth would I take photographs of Canberra?!? I don't want to lose readers!

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...

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