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Showing posts with the label fruit

Every true genius is bound to be naive.

Jen picking berries. Sorell Fruit Farm, the Coal River Valley. December 2012. As you know, the Internet is a wonderful place filled with the rich and varied treasures of the world holds (and RSS feeds.) The following are some things that I've had a look at in the last week. I call this: a Compendium of Click-throughs for Monday Morning... A Bad Lip Reading of the NFL. Some great photos here: Nigeria's Illegal Oil Refineries. Can Neanderthals Be Brought Back from the Dead? Luddites! Killing Easter Bunnies. What do women want? The same as men, it seems. Propaganda Posters for the Modern Age. 8 Berries. Sorell Fruit Farm, the Coal River Valley. December 2012.

I've got all the money I'll ever need, if I die by four o'clock.

Cherries. Sorell Fruit Farm. December 2012. Theme Thursday ? Already?!? So she said, "Have you got ANTS in your pants?" "No." "Spiders on your Ryders?" "Uh uh." "Snails up your veils?" "Nope." "Gnats in your spats?" "Nein." "Fleas on your keys?" "Negative." "Bugs under your jugs?" "..." "Roaches over your broaches?" "Not at all." "Nits in your knits?" "How dare you sir!" "Grasshoppers in your jodhpurs?" "Now you're just being silly." "Crabs infesting your prefabs?" "Absolutely not." "Crickets in your chicots?" "That's a stretch." "Slugs under your rugs?" "Better." "Praying mantis in your... in your..." "Keep trying." "Acanthodrilidae... Danaus plexippus... Ischn...

The only true love is love at first sight; second sight dispels it.

Grapefruit in the bay. Kangaroo Bay, Bellerive. February 2012. Each Watery Wednesday must feature all sorts of flotsam and jetsam. I am not sure whether today's grapefruit constitutes flotsam or jetsam . The romantic in me would like to think that it was an intriguing bit of flotsam , making it all the way to Bellerive via the great Southern Ocean current after a Chilean fruit tender struck a rogue squid or something or other. It is of course more likely to be jetsam , cast aside by some foolish rapscallion as part of some sophomoric prank. BAH! [Of course, maritime law seems flotsam as floating wreckage of a ship or its cargo . Conversely, jetsam is part of a ship, its equipment, or its cargo that is purposefully cast overboard or jettisoned to lighten the load in time of distress and that sinks or is washed ashore .]

A remark generally hurts in proportion to its truth.

Plums? St Johns Park, New Town. February 2011. I don’t have anything, so here is a questionnaire. 1. Is there anything you wanted growing up from Santa that you never got? Probably a swimming pool, but it was always a tough ask. 2. Where is the best place you've ever vacationed? I enjoyed Germany and the Czech Republic very much. 3. Where is your favourite place to go when you need some time to yourself? Myself? Huh…? Probably a beach somewhere. 4. What is the current book you are reading, and your favourite book? As I type this, Victor Pelevin’s The Blue Lantern . I don’t have a single favourite book, but Catch-22 , Lolita , If This is a Man , The Tin Drum , Darkness at Noon , For Whom The Bell Tolls , Things Fall Apart and about thirty others make the short list. 5. What is your favourite element? Nitrogen is always good fun. 6. Do you believe in aliens from other planets and what do you think they look like? Well, logic would suggest that if it could happen on one planet, circ...

It seems these poets have nothing up their ample sleeves

Look at the plump, juicy …. [err] things. St Johns Park, New Town. February 2011. If I wrote a Chinese poem of the Sung Dynasty, I think that I should like to call it Reports examining the range and magnitude of alcohol’s harm to others highlight the importance of comprehending the largely hidden impact of alcohol on children and observe the wide range of harms experienced by children as a result of their parents’ drinking . I believe that it would have achieve no small amount of success and esteem. Reading An Anthology Of Chinese Poems Of The Sung Dynasty, I Pause To Admire The Length And Clarity Of Their Titles , by Billy Collins It seems these poets have nothing up their ample sleeves they turn over so many cards so early, telling us before the first line whether it is wet or dry, night or day, the season the man is standing in, even how much he has had to drink. Maybe it is autumn and he is looking at a sparrow. Maybe it is snowing on a town with a beautiful name. "Viewing P...

Well, all I know is what I read in the papers.

" Blood oranges, you say...?" Hmmmm...

[Insert noun] is the new [Insert another noun]

Bugger the reform process, this has rocked the health and human services/community sector to its very core...