No people in history have ever survived who thought they could protect their freedom by making themselves inoffensive to their enemies.

Gorilla in very little mist. Melbourne Zoo, Melbourne. April 2011.

On our recent visit to Melbourne Zoo, Henry and Ezra were particularly drawn to the gorillas and the orang-utans. The gorillas in particular seemed a great source of fascination for Henry. He has come over all Diane Fossey on us!

In fact, we’re now debating whether or not we might send him off for a year or two to live with the apes.

It’s either that or he spends a week with his grandparents…

Comments

Roddy said…

The grandparents are waiting for that week to eventuate.
You could ask the gorilla if it would like to stay as well.

19 May 2011 at 09:31

ratatouille's archives said…

"In fact, we’re now debating whether or not we might send him off for a year or two to live with the apes...It’s either that or he spends a week with his grandparents…"

Hi! Kris...
LOL!!!!
My opinion, for what's worth...apt for the latter!
Thanks, for sharing the quote too!
DeeDee ;-D

19 May 2011 at 10:58

Stefan Jansson said…

Ha, that would be an interesting experience for young Henry.

19 May 2011 at 18:48

Kris McCracken said…

Roddy, you wouldn't last a day...

DeeDee, you'vr not met them.

Steffe, they'd boot him out for rowdiness.

22 May 2011 at 20:58

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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