Risk comes from not knowing what you're doing.

Circle and lines. East Derwent Highway, Lindisfarne. April 2012.

Another Tuesday Q and A courtesy of Sunday Stealing. It's a bit of a shake-up this week, less 'Q and A' and more 'complete the sentence' really. Thus, I present to you The Semi Charmed Meme, Part One

1. My uncle once: got my father imprisoned for the weekend.

2. Never in my life: have I insincerely professed love.

3. When I was five: I am sure that I was naughtier than my boy Henry.

4. High School was: not something that enjoyed in the slightest.

5. I will never forget: that the important things in life cannot be bought and sold.

6. I once met: someone with an odious personality. It didn’t end well.

7. There’s this girl I know who: must have the patience of a saint.

8. Once, at a bar: I took a punt and then everything in my life changed.

9. By noon, I’m usually: ready for either a) my run; or b) a nap.

10. Last night: was like most other nights.

11. If only I had: been a little less risk-averse.

12. Next time I go to church: will be the first time that I ever go to church!

13. Jonathan Frid: is not a name that I am familiar with.

14. What worries me most: are things that I have no control on whatsoever.

15. When I turn my head left, I see: a beautiful full sun perched above a gum tree.

16. When I turn my head right, I see: a shaded pot plant.

17. You know I’m lying when: I tell you that I am indeed interested in your view on politics.

18. What I miss most about the 80s: are the choices that I didn’t make.

19. If I was a character in Shakespeare, I’d be: naughty Iago.

20. By this time next year: I hope to be somewhere different than I am today.

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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