This will hurt me...

The square up for yesterday's photo of the terrible threesome, here you can see me trying to wrangle a couple of slippery customers. It's not easy.

That said, I managed on Monday to pick them both unwilling customers up and carry them out of a toyshop, all the while carrying a bag chock full of supplies.

My arms still haven't forgiven me...

I doubted her bold claims to being action oriented (given her [ahem] sturdy figure), but by golly, you should have seen her dive for that last piece of cake!

Another Spring morning in Hobart of course means more rain, snow again on the mountain and 4⁰C greeting me on my walk into walk today. Oh for the heady days of summer! Above are some Salamanca sweltering in the heat.

How about this motley crew of chancers?

Fair dinkum, trying to take a photo where these three are even vaguely all looking in the right direction, with none of them pulling a silly face or looking off their nut, is a big ask!

This is even more difficult, when the camera these days has assumed an almost mystical ability to draw children's hands to it the moment that it appears!

Let us not forget the forgotten victims of the torrents of rain Hobart has seen for the past four months: the worms. I photographed this worm holocaust in a Battery Point park. Yes, it is the broken bodies of millions thousands hundreds dozens tens of worms drowned in a ditch. It was a difficult image to capture through the tears.

Ezra is learning to eat without help.

He's getting there.

Slowly.

As an interesting point of comparison, here is Henry coming to grips with yoghurt way back in February '08 (which would make him a few months older in that photo than Ez is now).

Flowers, the Tasmanian Parliament, a big blue sky and 10 Murray all in one shot! What more could one want?

Even better, we have been fortunate enough to go three straight days without rain!

I'll be winning Lotto next (and I don't even play Lotto).

I've heard people say that too much of anything is not good for you, baby.

Oh no.

But I don't know about that.

There's many times that we've loved.

We've shared love and made love.

It doesn't seem to me like it's enough.

There's just not enough of it.

There's just not enough.

Oh oh, babe.

I won't give away the answer, but my clue is that today's photo is of a ship berthed down here in Hobart ALL winter. It doesn't have the nerve to tackle a REAL Antarctic experience and sail about with right and proper icebergs. Word on the street is that they are set to leave on a vital and top secret mission designed tohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif end the scourge of global warming!

Yes, they'll be measuring penguin farts.

Time for the Sunday Top Five!

Today I am tackling my Top Five Australian Birds!

5: Galah;

4: Emu;

3: Kookaburra;

2: FairyLittle Penguin;

1: The Splendid Wren!

Here is a blast from the [recent] past: Ezra tickling the ivories [ooh err missus].

I have been trying to encourage a taste for Chopin, but he is veering dangerously into honkeytonk territory. If he stays on this course, he's gonna end up playing in some flea-bitten house of ill repute somewhere in East Baton Rouge.

Another day, another shot of the surface of the water. Yes, it is the Derwent River again!

In my world, it seems that the terrible twos have mutated into the wretched threes early, and we have one junior Idi Amin - only with less concern for others - on our hands. It makes for a pleasant day.

I suppose that it could be worse, he could be Roman Polanski. If he were Roman, however, at least we could on Hollywood to stand by him! It's a good thing that Polanski only raped a young girl, and not anything to do with dogs. The public's forgiveness has its limits, you know!

Last time I posted one from this series, I copped some flak for comparing Henry to Audrey Hepburn, the implication being that he will resent it.

I've taken that on board, so this time I will say that Henry reminds me of Audrey Tautou.

Barbed wire seems to be a theme around the Battery Point area. It seems that once the middle classes decided to slum it, and they managed to shift the riff raff out, they are hell bent on keeping them out for good. Here is Shed Number Two on a grey old day. Personally, I think that razor wire would be far more effective...

Step aside Paris Hilton, we have a new diva in town!

Every day, in every way, Ez just keeps getting better and better.

Ummmm. Theme Thursday you say? A tricky one.

As ever, I have chosen the photo before making myself aware of the theme. It keeps the challenge up. This one is not too tricky though...

The theme today is FLIGHT, and when you say flight, the word that immediately comes to me does not evoke birds, wind or airports; it is the cold, hard truth of reality. Here, two typical Tasmanian CSIRO-employed nerdshunks are taking a well earned lunch break from their daily humdrum reality of, I dunno, measuring seagull farts. Re-creating Hemingway’s allegorical commentary on his philosophy of Manhood – The Old Man and the Sea – these two epitomes of manhood are locked in a desperate battle of wills with nature’s greatest beast: fishthe ego.

For the most part, reality is a bummer. Back when Generation X hadn’t been superseded by the vacuous, self-absorbed nitwits of Generation Y (why indeed), the kids used to say reality bites. It bites especially hard when you’re stuck at work. So dudes like those above choose escape. They choose FLIGHT from the dismal reality of wage slavery in the form of impaling worms on hooks and, impaling fish on worms.

Whatever gets you through the night fellas.

I choose cameras. Lunchtime for me typically involves wandering around aimlessly with a camera looking for something to shoot (in a photographic sense). For one, it stops the drive towards wandering around looking for something to shoot (in a literal sense).

Thus, my daily FLIGHT often involves clandestinely observing, and sometimes recording, the daily FLIGHTs of others.

It’s a living.