Skip to main content

Necessity brings him here, not pleasure.


I am looking to exhaust the backlog of cute Ezra pictures, so that I can show a whole new stream of cute Ezra pictures. Here is one from a few months back, with the little bloke exploiting some lovely afternoon sunlight.

For the record, the fellow turfed off the roof in the tale of Theme Thursday was most definitely not me. I'm insulted that anyone would think that'd I'd be silly enough to get myself into that situation. Just as I wouldn't be on the roof throwing them off, I'm not the kind to be thrown off either. I'm the one laughing and pointing all the while People like that ought to be ashamed.

As for the end result, I do believe that he was fine, aside from a few bumps and bruises. That and an almighty hangover.
Labels:

Comments

Whoistin-tinandsnowy? said…
Hi! Kris,
I agree with you, a nice shot of baby Ezra, in the sunlight!
Thanks, for posting!

I'm the one laughing and pointing all the while People like that ought to be ashamed.
To borrow Subby77's word, Wot?!!? Get Out!
DeeDee ;-D
20 June 2009 at 00:04
Priyanka Khot said…
I am ashamed. {hanged hung in shame :(}
21 June 2009 at 16:16
Priyanka Khot said…
Oh yes! Ez looks oh so cute!
21 June 2009 at 16:46
yamini said…
Ez looks cute, really enjoying the afternoon light.

Hey, when I said that if u were there, I meant in the capacity of "laughing and pointing finger" audience, so, dont feel offended.

I know u are too smart to be directly involved in a crime :-)))
23 June 2009 at 15:36
Kris McCracken said…
Priyanka, he is a looker.
24 June 2009 at 10:00
Kris McCracken said…
Yamini, I am rarely offended.
24 June 2009 at 10:04
Post a Comment

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...
5 comments
Read more

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...
38 comments
Read more

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.
36 comments
Read more