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...
Comments
Are you talking about the odor left from the fires. It does take a long time for it to go away. Although I think the bird is really liking the fragrance from the fish.
I hope it is cooling down there since you are going into Autumn and the fragrance would be different then it is for us who are entering into Springtime.
I do hope the stench goes away soon for all of you down there.
Happy TT! May you have a weekend filled with the fragrance of your wife and the boys. You have to admit that they probably have the best fragrance around.
God bless.
GSB, yummy dead fish!