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
Comments
We finally get to see the lads with the dad. :-))
I agree with Priyanka, specially the way you are clutching at Henry's t-shirt with your left hand. Thanks for taking such pains and sharing the results with us.
(love the toes)
They've not banned the blog of yours. They filtered some of the blog spot's servers so that some of the photos of blog spot's blogs can not be shown here in Iran. Sorry, but you have a serious visitor from Iran!!!
I do not like to start a political discussion, but this is a fact that we are in a trap, yeah! Iran is now SUCH a trap!!
Tell me about heavy. You and you brother, one in either arm and an almost vertical ship's gangway. Good thing I'm so strong.