Skip to main content

Flattery is all right so long as you don't inhale.


Rainbow ice cream?

Henry gives it the thumbs up.

Ezra is not quite so sure...

Comments

Roddy said…
What is Ezra thinking, do you think? Ok, I've finished my ice cream, so how come Henry still has so much left?
Hi! Kris,
Great photo of Henry eating ice cream...Kris, my mother is a photographer and I'am an artist...who dabbled in every medium, but photography.
Hence,
my great interesting in your photography.
Happy Holidays!
DeeDee ;-D
yamini said…
That is one mighty ice cream cone, one visibly enjoying Henry and one seemingly pissed off Ez, all in one picture. Kudos Kris!!!!

What happened next????
Kris McCracken said…
Roddy, he had a wild berry one himself.
Kris McCracken said…
DeeDee, get onto the photos, it's easier than paint!
Kris McCracken said…
Yamini, he got one too, I'm not that cruel.
Roddy said…
Get him death by chocolate next time. Absolutely to die for. Figuratively speaking of course.

Popular posts from this blog

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut

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