Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore always carry a small snake.

Snake looking for a swim? Seven Mile Beach. March 2011.

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words...

Snake Deciding to romp in the dunes. Seven Mile Beach. March 2011.

Here is a five-thousand word essay!

Snake disappears into the grass. Seven Mile Beach. March 2011.

You can see the snakes tail heading into the grass on the dunes at the left of the picture.

Jen and Hen tramping right where the snake was. Seven Mile Beach. March 2011.

For perspective, here's Jen and Henry heading up that very same path not that much before I spotted our slithery friend.

FOOTPRINTS! Seven Mile Beach. March 2011.

I got some nice shot of the belly prints too...

Comments

Roddy said…

I like your snake, but did it stay with you while you worked? Mine did.

14 March 2011 at 13:23

Roddy said…

You have taught your children a very important lessen today. Observe the snake, leave it alone and it will leave you alone. They are protected!
Their grandfather (me) and his brother (Ian) used to chase these creatures. Luckily we weren't bitten.
More luck than anything.

14 March 2011 at 19:54

Carola said…

Great story! I know Australians are not afraid of animals.

15 March 2011 at 03:22

Kris McCracken said…

RodduRoddy, they know to stand clear, leave it alone and give it an easy escape route. They’re hip to the routine.

Carola, I have a healthy fear of snakes. Leave them be and they won’t bother about me.

15 March 2011 at 09:28

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...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

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