There is a rollicking kindness that looks like malice.

Waiting for something to happen. Geilston Bay, November 2010.

I took this photo just over the road from our place. It's a mite depressing that you can see - on the extreme upper left - the Carruthers Building. I suspect that with the right equipment, you'd even be able to zoom and and see my desk!

Today's Sunday Top Five? Five Games In Which Henry Has Bested Me!

SNAP!

Connect Four

Guess Who?

Hide and Seek

Memory

If you've ever played games with Henry, you'll understand that sometimes taking one for the team is the better result for everybody...

Comments

Gemma Wiseman said…

Love the layers of meaning in your posts! Perhaps especially this one! That higher level stirring our own lives - as in the post title! The image of a visual reality! (Love that scene!) And then there is the cryptic comment about the ways - and maybe wiles - of the young! Always entertaining!

28 November 2010 at 14:15

Kris McCracken said…

It's been a struggle of late.

29 November 2010 at 14:21

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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