We all have these places where shy humiliations gambol on sunny afternoons.

These boots were made for walking. Seven Mile Beach, September 2010.

Game Two of the Southern Touch Mixed Teams Division Seven was run and done last night, and the illustrious Statewide and Mental Health Services team Mind Games emerged slightly scathed last night with a gallant two tries to ten trouncing.

On the personal front, no shoulder damage this week, just a nice big bruise on the right upper thigh (at the front) that I cannot explain. The quads are tight, and the left calf taut, but a vigorous series of stretches pre- and post- match appear to have served me well.

As for the cheerleader report, they disappeared not long after the opening kickoff to search for playground equipment. Said equipment was found, but not before they spotted a small marsupial bounding through the sandy dunes of Howrah Beach. Alas, there was no camera to record the moment.

Comments

Tash said…

Add this to your top 10 best shots. It's adorable and facsinating at the same time. You go little boots guy.

30 October 2010 at 17:06

Kris McCracken said…

He’s generally quite quick. In the gumboots though he’s much slower…

1 November 2010 at 10:49

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

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

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

This will hurt me...

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