Skip to main content

A man of genius makes no mistakes. His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.

My beautiful little angel and oldest son, Henry, turns the big THREE today. I thought that I'd honour the little bugger with a trip down memory lane while I get stuck in to making pancakes for breakfast!








































Happy birthday Henry, you handsome devil!

Comments

Anonymous said…
Happy Birthday Henry.

You got two cool eyes.
Hallam said…
Happy Birthday Henry. Do you have any Fitzgerald-McCracken birthday rituals?
Sue said…
Happy Birthday, dearest Henry! With lots of love and hugs and mushy kisses from Aunty Sue, Cody and Zac!
yamini said…
Happy Birthday Henry!!!!
Wish you all the good things AND a LOT of girlfriends in the world.
Luv,
Yamini.

P.S. Let me know how you liked the birthday card. :-))
Sarah said…
Happy Birthday handsome Henry!
Daffodil Daze said…
Happy Birthday Henry.
Love love the toilet pic . . . very clever disguise.
Louis la Vache said…
«Louis» enjoyed the trip down Memory Lane!
Thank you, Kris, for posting - and all the best to all of you.
Priyanka Khot said…
Happy Birthday Henry!!!!
Babzy.B said…
Joyeux anniversaire de France :)
Kris McCracken said…
Henry sends his thanks to all!
jerrypuke said…
happy birthday henry! i haven't been online in a while and that's why i'm late... all pictures and posts great. I love this blog!
Anonymous said…
Gads they're cute. Must be as we get older our eyes get smaller while our nose gets bigger
Kris McCracken said…
Jerry and Pasadena, Henry sends his thanks!

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...

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...

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.