This will hurt me...

Oh father, you can be such a gobemouche sometimes!

The Bhagavad Gita always helped my forehand draw. Buckingham Bowls Club, New Town. March 2011. Oh how I would love to have had W.B. Yeats for dinner! Pan fried in a bit of garlic butter, I think. The Lake Isle of Innisfree , by W.B. Yeats I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings. I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, I hear it in the deep heart's core.

We went spearfishing. Didn't even catch one spear. ... I'll get my coat.

Blue. Kangaroo Bay, Bellerive. February 2011. Another week, another few books. This week I have a bigger one and a littler one. Let’s start with the little one, shall we? Although Alan Bennett is better associated with the world of theatre, he has ventured into TV, radio and literature. In The Clothes They Stood Up In , he brings his attention to detail and illustration of contemporary life through the eyes of Mrs. Ransome's, a seemingly dreary figure left behind by modern society. The central premise of the book – suddenly all the worldly possessions of a suburban couple are removed from their flat – allows the author the leeway to create an atmosphere of stilted repression in which one character, gradually, is able to discover the world’s ability to delight her, even arouse her. It’s a surprisingly dark piece, and tackles one of my favourite topics: stuff and its capacity to blunt our senses. All up it is a fantastic book, and – even better – will only take you a few hours to kn...

Climbing hills is good exercise. Carrying two tired children while climbing hells is torture.

It's all his own work...

I see sea green. Bellerive Wharf, February 2011. Any questions? If someone wrote a book about your life, what would they title it? Good question. Hmmm. How about Mental Disintegration: the challenge and art of cohabiting with two tyros ? Do you like to sing in the shower? Yes I do. I sing tunes from the hit parade re-worked with dirty lyrics. What do you do when (you think) no one is looking? I look. Did you ever have a teacher who picked on you? At least one for certain. She was a sour old cow. The others, well, maybe they had a point… Describe yourself in a single sentence. I fall down a lot.

Couldn't you just see this face on a bottle of salad dressing?

We're back with a very special guest ...

Heading in a north easterly direction. Looking up from the vantage point of Bathurst Street, Hobart. March 2011. I stick the thumb out, but they never stop. Why not?

Yes, I believe I can fly! Thanks to Jen, who took the pic. [By the by, who are those two dills in the background?]

Dead bird has seen better days. Calverts Beach, February 2011. I know how this bird feels.

Next stop, Music Hall !

Sign #1. St Johns Park, New Town. March 2011. Still going... Sign #2. St Johns Park, New Town. March 2011. Still going... Sign #3. St Johns Park, New Town. March 2011. Still going...

Handsome Henry harnesses his habromania.

This seagull is checking out the potential Sheffield Shield final location. Bellerive Oval, Bellerive. March 2011. Top Five Cricket Teams. Tasmania Tasmania Tasmania Tasmania Tasmania