The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.

"Must... get... baby..."

Urgghhhh...

"Must... get... baby..."

Arghhhh...

"Just a... little... bit... further..."

It must be very frustrating when you are beginning to understand the fundamentals of crawling, but you're just not quite there.

Even moreso when you finally manage to get your hand on it an an anti-social toddler snatches the prize at the very final second.

One day he shall have his revenge. One day...

Comments

Sue said…

Hehehehehe.... which one is the doll??? They look the same!!!

Revenge?? Am I hearing a second born child's longing for retribution even after all these years!!

2 March 2009 at 17:40

Kris McCracken said…

Sue, it isn't easy being second.

2 March 2009 at 18:41

Sue said…

Apparently being green isn't either!

2 March 2009 at 21:33

KL said…

Can I have both the dolls please? Also, innocent until proven guilty. So, supply us with a photo if you want us to believe in that anti-social story.

BTW, are those whales/dolphins stranded near wherever you live?

3 March 2009 at 01:03

Debbie Courson Smith said…

Go Ezra...train Henry to hand you the toys you want.

3 March 2009 at 03:41

Kris McCracken said…

Sue, that's what Bob Brown reckons.

3 March 2009 at 09:18

Kris McCracken said…

KL, not at all. King Island is right in the middle of Bass Strait, which is a lot closer to Melbourne than it is Hobart.

3 March 2009 at 09:19

Kris McCracken said…

Diva, he's good at snatching them away, not so good at helping.

3 March 2009 at 09:20

Dina said…

Ain't it the truth!

3 March 2009 at 22:34

Kris McCracken said…

Dina, Martin Luther King said some rather precise things in his brief time here.

4 March 2009 at 08:29

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...

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