Skip to main content

The past is never dead. It's not even past.


Pebbles. Water. Sunlight. I think that's all you need to have something halfway interesting. I took this one down in Salamanca, it's part of the statue/fountain combination dedicated to Abel Tasman and the Mighty Dutch Empire plucky little Koninkrijk der Nederlanden.

Time for Sunday Top Five!
Five Things Better Than The English Cricket Team
  1. Henry's toilet nous: we had another poo this morning.

  2. Ezra's standing abilities: not much falling over these days.

  3. Studly North West Coast swing bowlers: Hilfenhaus is the pick of the bowlers. How the poms wish that they could call up some Tasmanians! (Given that the past two English captains are South African, you wonder why they don't.)

  4. West Indian Scab Cricketers: the motley crew of strikebreakers are trouncing Bangladesh, and would no doubt wallop the pride of England (and Wales).

  5. Turnips: turnips are better than the English cricket team. Trust me.
Labels:

Comments

Roddy said…
Where is the past if it isn't gone? Same place as the pommie cricket team I guess.
12 July 2009 at 13:19
Kris McCracken said…
Roddy, I myself like this photograph. The world does not agree.
13 July 2009 at 14:42
Roddy said…
The picture bodes of wealth. I too am taken by it
13 July 2009 at 16:48
KL said…
Ahem!ahem...australian cricket team has lost all its lustures and glories...so you can't say exactly such things about English team :-D
17 July 2009 at 07:06
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