I am better than my reputation.

Wires. Quayle Street, Sandy Bay. December 2012.

Sunday Stealing: The 11/11 Questions meme

What is your favourite possession?

Probably my camera.

Do you like to read? If so, which books do you love best?

I love to read. I'll read most things, so am not sure I can pin down any particular type that I "love best". My list of favourites contain a lot of dark novels, however.

Do you have any pets?

No. Unless you count two rug rats.

What was your favourite food as a child? Is it the same now?

I probably liked sausages best. I still do, but I don't think that they are my 'favourite' any more.

What is your favourite thing about blogging?

Interacting with people from all over the world.

If you could live anywhere, where would it be?

Somewhere close to the beach.

What is your favourite number?

Seven!

Which of these things would you find hardest to give up for a year? Chocolate, reading, coffee or smoking?

Reading. Without a doubt. I've never smoked, chocolate isn't my thing and I could always replace coffee with tea. I'd be lost without something to read.

If you could make your life into a movie, what would you name it.. In addition, whom would you want to play you?

"Panjandrum". I think that George Clooney might just be able to play me.

If you had $40,000 for a shopping spree, what would you buy?

Can I put some of it in the bank? No? I'd take us all on the Trans-Siberian Railway and equip us all out with the latest in computers, tablets, cameras, handheld video games and the like.

If you could eat lunch with one famous person, who would it be?

Famous people don't interest me all that much. Bill Clinton would be interesting. Keith Richards would have some great stories.

Comments

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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