This will hurt me...

Henry likes to climb. He might not have nerves of steel, but he is as limber as a mountain goat. I'm encouraging him to climb up sea cliffs, with the instruction to avoid crashing into the rocks if he falls. We have a one-hundred percent success rate thus far.

No bells. Atop Hobart G.P.O, Elizabeth Street, Hobart. October 2011. We have pancakes every Saturday morning, even though I am a fry up kind of guy. Amoeba , John Hegley hello amoeba I wish you were my pet but you're not really big enough to be seen by the vet are you? you're a little blob of jelly you've got no skin and bone you're not a boy you're not a girl and you're not on the telephone I cannot get in touch with you I cannot pull your leg you look a bit like a fried egg you're a long way down the ladder that evolution trod but you can eat with your feet or to be more discreet obtain food with your pseudopod and you don't have to have a partner to start a family you can multiply by dividing tra-la-la-la-lee you don't get up in the morning because you never go to bed you've not got any genitalia but you've got other bits instead I saw you down the microscope when I was just a lad I told my mum about you and then I told my dog you're n

Early starts for Ez. Even in the gloom his eyes light up the room!

Cold. Queen Street, Sandy Bay. September 2011. Two decent reads this week. First up, Saturday by Ian McEwan is a novel set across a single Saturday (and night) in inner-city London in early-2003 as the city geared itself for large demonstration against the invasion of Iraq. The central character is a 48-year-old neurosurgeon that goes about his day as normal (albeit pondering the meaning of the protest and the geopolitical realities that inspired it). As might be expected, something else happens as well as a violent and troubled stranger penetrates his usually-tranquil world. This book seemed to divide the critics, and I guess that I can see why. The protagonist lives a blissful, upper middle class existence that appears to chaff with many reviewers. Nonetheless, and despite my decidedly anti-bourgeois tendencies, it didn’t worry me. Utilising a neurosurgeon as the centrepiece of the story affords McEwan the opportunity to explore core human concepts – happiness, ideology, rationality

Run Henry, RUN!

Indeed. Brisbane Street, Hobart. October 2011. Stencilled graffiti: acceptable or cop out? For the record, I like the good ones, but decreasingly so if they become too ubiquitous. Simpler is better. While I'm not anti- politically-charged graffiti in any way, I am anti-stupidity and often the lines are blurred. I'm more a subtle/ whimsy kind of fellow... Also, although this post has very little to do with FISH, I suspect that Theme Thursday might be back!

Ezra, as envisaged in a late-1950s BBQ in Kansas...

Self portrait on wet rocks. Blinking Billy Beach, Sandy Bay. September 2011. Another day, another Q and A! Today this is the Questions Galore Meme , Part 1... 1. Is there someone in your life you know you’d be better off without? I generally don’t keep those people around. I’m not what one might call ‘a soft touch’. 2. Do you get criticised because of your body? Not that I hear of. The most critical would be myself. 3. Did you kiss the last person you called? Called? On the telephone? No I didn’t. I’m not sure that business contacts would appreciate that sort of thing. I could ask him... 4. When was the last time you danced? Monday afternoon. Henry and I danced to Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture . Lots of spinning. 5. Do you keep in mind other people’s feelings? Of course. That said, I am a little more uncompromising than many. 6. If you have a hang nail, do you pull it or clip it? Clip. 7. Who do you want to forget? Scott Muller. 8. Who was the last person to send you a letter? Kevin ‘Big

There is a little motorway (of sorts) down near Margate at Dru Point park that includes a host a road signs, lane markings and its very own set of synchronised traffic lights! At present, Henry is pretty good at obeying the road rules, even if he is hesitant to go down the one way side street for some reason.

Somewhere out there Antarctica awaits... Clifton Beach, October 2011. Do you remember that song Safety Dance by Canadian synth combo Men Without Hats? I hate that song. Really. I really hate that song. They should have done a song about an ocean or a beach. Only it should be nothing like fellow Canadians Martha and the Muffins' aural atrocity Echo Beach , because I really hate that song too. Come to think of it, there's a lot of Canadian music I don't like...

Since this day, I've sworn myself to the policy of nothing but Calipos or Dixie Cups until they are eight...

Do you wanna be in my gang? East Derwent Highway, Geilston Bay. September 2011. If I was tasked with the job of starting a professional sports organisation, I'd make sure that I'd get the branding right. The most recent teams in the Australian Football League (the premier league in the country) are very good examples of poor choices. Back in 1994 and the formation of Fremantle, I originally felt that the Dockers was an [ahem] interesting choice indeed. Drawing to mind a fat, foul-mouthed warfie calling yet another stop work meeting didn't seem very inspiring; but in retrospect it has proven an original nickname and does capture some of the local colour. It has been all downhill from there however... For example: Port Adelaide Power ? Accompanying on from the multitude of failed Australian soccer teams (Glory, Pride, Spirit, King z ), the decidedly un-hip Port Power was launched. In teal. Really. Latterly, we have seen the Gold Coast Suns strutting there stuff. While they

I'm not sure which we like best: waves coming in , or waves going out . Call it a draw.

Thirty? King Street, Sandy Bay. October 2011. Another Sunday, another top five. Today, Five Things That You May Not Know About The Number 30 ! 30 is the sum of the first four squares, which makes it a square pyramidal number ! 30 is the total number of major and minor keys in Western tonal music, including enharmonic equivalents! French existentialist bore Albert Camus argued in The Myth Of Sisyphus that the age of thirty represents a critical period in life , for at that age humans gain a fresh awareness of the meaning of time! The atomic number of zinc is 30 ! The Thirty Years' War - fought between 1618 and 1648 - lasted for [you guessed it) THIRTY years!