Skip to main content

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

Popular posts from this blog

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

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

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