The sea birds are taking advantage of the end of the football season and setting in on the Henry Fitzgerald McCracken Recreational Ground. Watch out for the rollers though fellas, cricket is just around the corner!
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...
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Does this indicated that a storm is coming. That seems to be the time we get gulls inland on the football fields.
Obviously the seas are up.
BTW...your cousin, Cody, had a big win on Sunday! Back-to-back premierships for him! He is still out celebrating. He tells me that 'mad Monday' will be turning into 'mad Tuesday'! God, I hope his liver can withstand the onslaught! His last conversation with me went along the lines, "Muvver dearesh, shwuuytd hdytgav mnndysbhgash bleeeh!!" or at least that is all I could make out!
Sounds like Cody must have picked up a concussion...