Skip to main content

Power is everywhere...because it comes from everywhere


I wanted to post this photo of Ezra.

So I did.

Because I can.

Comments

Kitty said…
aw...what an expression!
I'm sure it's never a dull moment with these fellows
KL said…
It's absolutely great that you can because I love their pics. Incredibly cuuutttteeeeee..........
EG CameraGirl said…
You think you can because Ezra willed you to think you can. And you may think you have the power but Ezra knows the truth. ;-)

He sure looks like a smart kid!
USelaine said…
He doesn't look like a baby anymore. He's a man.
Sue said…
My goodness, Kris...he DOES look like you as a baby!!!
I hope he is as lovely natured as you were!!!
Z said…
You're the man!

Hee hee!
Kris McCracken said…
Crittoria, and he knows it.
Kris McCracken said…
Kitty, it can get pretty dull after a few hours of being screamed at.
Kris McCracken said…
KL, I will have to post some unflattering ones.
Kris McCracken said…
EGTG, Ezra does have smarts.
Kris McCracken said…
Elaine, for some reason I have had some very masculine children.

They drip testosterone.
Kris McCracken said…
Sue, he's even better.
Kris McCracken said…
Z, Ez is the man.

And so is Henry.

I am the manservant.
Ezra is Adorable, what a CUTIE!!! YAY! Makes me smile! :-D
chunky sweet baby...got to love em. i have one of my own. :) bet he is a good boy. you have empowered me to post more pics of my boy, because i can. :)
Anonymous said…
Yep, all boy there! What a cutie pie.
Kris McCracken said…
Sterl, go on, you won't regret it!
Kris McCracken said…
Joan, no-one has yet to mistake either of them for girls.
Unknown said…
Ezra is adorable!!!
Kris McCracken said…
Thiên, and well fed!

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

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.