On New Years Eve, cranky Hanky enjoyed a large tub of handmade vanilla bean ice cream. Just the trick in the middle of summer!
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
Was this your scream or my scream for ice cream? Perhaps Henry screamed loudest as he has the product.
I don't know what you are doing to your blog. It is testing me. The new layout is .... different! I'm not complaining, just pointing out??
Perhaps I was too used to the old format.
I also enjoy seeing how life is so different in your part of the world at certain times of the year.