Almost every desire a poor man has is a punishable offence.

Clock. G.P.O. Building, Elizabeth Street, Hobart. July 2012.

Theme Thursday already and I am yet again filled with empty PROMISES.

I PROMISE to make sure that I remember Theme Thursday.

I PROMISE to try harder.

I PROMISE to be nice.

I PROMISE to do my best.

I PROMISE to stop I PROMISing.

Comments

Mrsupole said…

Hi Kris,

I think I like the last line best, although I do like the line about remembering Theme Thursday. As for that line, you rock. And I think you do keep one promise in that you try to be the best dad and husband to your family. This does show in all your pictures.

Oh and I do hope you have had a better week at work.

God bless.

23 August 2012 at 17:20

Susan said…

This sounds like something that had to be said, and tho this has a little tone of a jest, perhaps you should post it on your wall? Well said!

24 August 2012 at 11:25

Unspoken said…

HAH! Yes, that's always an option :).

24 August 2012 at 12:20

Dave King said…

Me too like last promise best.

25 August 2012 at 18:18

Kris McCracken said…

Mrsupole, I've long given up the notion that work will get 'better'. Unfortunately.

Susan, I should do.

She Writes, options are good.

Dave, I promise.

26 August 2012 at 18:06

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...

Search This Blog