This will hurt me...

Henry opted for a dinosaur this year. Tricky, but not impossible. I eschewed the T-Rex. Note the colourful cakes. Fossilised remains?

Stare down with a duck. Duck wins. Geilston Bay, October 2010. Sunday? Top Five? Here's an idea, the Top Five Ideas For Next Year's Birthday Cake ! Plain Apple Tea Cake Plain Egg Sponge Plain Banana and Cinnamon Cake Plain Blueberry Coffee Cake Elaborate Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte For those not Facebook inclined, I've attached this year's effort below... For the record, it is a Great White Shark rising out of the depths. The depths is made up of white chocolate mousse dyed blue. Sugar content was off the charts. If you're interested in more pics, feel free to stroll by my page there .

My beautiful little BIG angel and oldest son, Henry , turns the big FOUR today. I thought that I'd honour the little bugger with a trip down memory lane while we prepare for the birthday bash of the millennium! Happy birthday Henry, you handsome devil!

Unfortunately, host duties prevented me from fully exploiting the innumerable photographic opportunities. That said, I have the feelers out for any attendees that might have snared any interesting shots on the day. I did manage to capture, along with the above video, a shot of Henry and his lovely assistant Evie [100% certified organic] confronting the dangerous beast that Ezra and I prepared the evening before.

And what would a two year old’s party be without bubbles? No this is not a philosophical question (although I’d love to see Arthur Schopenhauer’s response), but an accompanying witticism to the above photo. Here you can see the little Aussie battler – decked out in what is at the moment my favourite shirt of his – checking out the bubbles from the extraordinarily large bubble machine that his mother hired for the occasion. Actually, I reckon that Schopenhauer and his cat would probably echo the thoughts of [the collective] Jaan Kenbrovin , referenced in the lyrics that I’ve borrowed for the title for this one. By crikey it is bleak for a jaunty little waltz and terrace anthem . Lest I dissolve into a requiem for our collective hopes and dreams, which eventually must culminate in a standpoint that rests on the advocacy of a position that assumes that the negation of an individual’s ultimate desires is an expression of his/her true freedom (and ain’t that a can of worms!), I will jus...