Life is a wretched grey Saturday, but it has to be lived through.

Here they are all lined up over a treacherous waterway in the bustling metropolis of Melbourne.

Note to future parents: start thinking up strategies to get children to walk past water features without sticking there hands in...

Comments

ratatouille's archives said…

Hi! Kris...
"Here they are all lined up over a treacherous waterway in the bustling metropolis of Melbourne..."

Your sons have your wife, Jen's characteristics...Especially, Henry, when it comes to their eyes.

Note to future parents: start thinking up strategies to get children to walk past water features without sticking there hands in...
LOL

"Life is a wretched grey Saturday, but it has to be lived through."

Hmmm...I'm not sure about the quote because I like Saturday(s) and sometimes grey Saturday(s) too!

Thanks, for sharing!
DeeDee ;-D

8 June 2011 at 20:27

Roddy said…

Hands are easy to live with. What happens when they have to jump in every puddle they see?
Wet hands, dry feet. I can live with.

8 June 2011 at 20:34

Anonymous said…

Oh come on...that waterfeature is just begging to be paddled in! DOnt you want to even a little bit?

9 June 2011 at 19:58

Kris McCracken said…

DeeDee, Henry for sure. Ezra is a replicate of me at that age.

Roddy, they do that too.

Nicki, there was plenty of paddling. I'm not sure I'd try it in Delhi.

10 June 2011 at 16:57

Rhapsody Phoenix said…

beautiful family, adorable kids....
good luck with the note to passing water without kids putting their hands in, some adults are still working on that one.

peace and blessings...
Rhapsody

12 June 2011 at 23:32

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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