This will hurt me...

Tree on a cliff. Clifton Beach. May 2013. 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... Why are we not much, much, much better at parenting? Girls on Film: The real problem with the Disney Princess brand. Reconnecting with Food. Essential for our health. Ocean scene: before and after overfishing. Educational waste: what’s missing in Australian classrooms. Coffee addiction: Do people consume too much caffeine? Holy Sh*t: A Brief History of Swearing. Best Night-Sky Pictures of 2013.

Snow Gum, Eucalyptus pauciflora. Lake Dobson, Mount Field National Park. April 2013. Marry me. Go on, I dare you to. To Friends behind a Frontier , Tomas Transtromer I I wrote so meagrely to you. But what I couldn't write swelled and swelled like an old-fashioned airship and drifted away at last through the night sky. II The letter is now at the censor's. He lights his lamp. In the glare my words fly up like monkeys on a grille, rattle it, become still, and bare their teeth. III Read between the lines. We'll meet in 200 years when the microphones in the hotel's walls are forgotten and can at last sleep, become trilobites.

Bees returning home. The Domain, Hobart. December 2012. Sunday Top Five and today I'm listing Five Sure Fire Ways That Constantly Mess Up People's Ways Of Thinking Or Planning! Only taking responsibility for positive outcomes. Rebellion for the sake of proving personal freedom. Confirmation bias, or, ignoring information that does not support a belief. Passing a broad judgement from an isolated incident. Sunk cost fallacy, or, trying to diminish losses by continuing to pursue previous failures.

Can you find Henry?

The Internet is a wonderful place filled with the rich and varied treasures of the world holds (as well as many ill-informed opinions.) 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.. Der Speigel has an interesting story on how work on a recently discovered mass grave is revealing a whole bunch of new clues to the Thirty Years' War . In news that shouldn't come as a surprise to parents, new evidence that attention problems in children may be related to their patterns of sleep . The BBC offers an interesting (albeit depressing) answer to the deprivation-related questions ' are North Koreans really three inches shorter than South Koreans ?'. In a more uplifting story, it seems that the new forms of publishing might well be rescuing many classics of Australian literature from their long out-of-print status ...

Morning glory. Geilston Bay. April 2012. . Two books to have a look at this Good Friday (not a bad day weather-wise). The first is German author Elke Schmitter's Mrs Sartoris . A subtle, but very dark, novel that explores the life of an ordinary - but spurned - titular character. For a text that revolves around the boredom of suburban life in a small German city, it is surprisingly engaging. As an exploration of marriage, motherhood, sensuality and bourgeois morality in the post-war period, this is a well-composed and balanced novel about the ways in which a wronged woman might choose to hit back. Recommended. The second - Guilt About the Past - is by another German, author and jurist Bernhard Schlink. Now, readers of Schlink's fiction will know that most of his books are in some way about reconciling the past with the present. This book is a series of essays (based upon a series of lectures) that explores the concepts of collective guilt; how we might use history to motivate ...

Sunshine came softly... Geilston Bay. January 2012. Le Maudit , Richard Aldington Women’s tears are but water; The tears of men are blood. He sits alone in the firelight And on either side drifts by Sleep, like a torrent whirling, Profound, wrinkled and dumb. Circuitously, stealthily, Dawn occupies the city; As if the seasons knew of his grief Spring has suddenly changed into snow Disaster and sorrow Have made him their pet; He cannot escape their accursed embraces. For all his dodgings Memory will lacerate him. What good does it do to wander Nights hours through city streets? Only that in poor places He can be with common men And receive their unspoken Instinctive sympathy. What has life done for him? He stands alone in the darkness Like a sentry never relieved, Looking over a barren space, Awaiting the tardy finish.

So now he has a chainsaw, and is just cutting down trees left, right and centre. We don't have a fire though.

Moss part I. Southern forests, Hastings Caves State Reserve. June 2011. This is a lovely poem, that kind of sums a lot of things up for me. Napoleon , Miroslav Holub Children, when was Napoleon Bonaparte born, asks teacher. A thousand years ago, the children say. A hundred years ago, the children say. Last year, the children say. No one knows. Children, what did Napoleon Bonaparte do, asks teacher. Won a war, the children say. Lost a war, the children say. No one knows. Our butcher had a dog called Napoleon, says Frantisek. The butcher used to beat him and the dog died of hunger a year ago. And all the children are now sorry for Napoleon. Moss part II. Southern forests, Hastings Caves State Reserve. June 2011. On another note, I spent all day as parent help in kindergarten yesterday, which was good fun. Henry did me proud and was easily one of the top three behaved. It seems that he is always very good in class! He is also a very popular lad, which never hurts. Moss part III. Southern ...

Things are looking up. Hastings Caves State Reserve, Huon Valley. June 2011. Some people like trees more than they like people. Some people like trees more than they like ice cream. Some people like ice cream more than they like people. Everywhere I look I see trees. Hastings Caves State Reserve, Huon Valley. June 2011. Have a poem. In a Garden , Amy Lowell Gushing from the mouths of stone men To spread at ease under the sky In granite-lipped basins, Where iris dabble their feet And rustle to a passing wind, The water fills the garden with its rushing, In the midst of the quiet of close-clipped lawns. Damp smell the ferns in tunnels of stone, Where trickle and plash the fountains, Marble fountains, yellowed with much water. Splashing down moss-tarnished steps It falls, the water; And the air is throbbing with it; With its gurgling and running; With its leaping, and deep, cool murmur. And I wished for night and you. I wanted to see you in the swimming-pool, White and shining in ...

Jen and Hen do some bushwalking the sensible way: on duckboards!

Tall eucalypts can be found in many places here. Eaglehawk Neck, Tasman Peninsula. January 2011. I would build Henry and Ezra a treehouse, unfortunately our backyard is limited to one little lemon tree and one little lime tree. I’m reasonably certain that neither would sufficiently bear the weight of my two behemoths. Especially with all that jumping about…

I see a tree. Geilston Bay High School, December 2010. Sturm und Drang. Drang and Sturm. Storm . And. Urge . Not stress. Urge . That's not a slight distinction.

This is not a cherry tree. Lindisfarne, November 2010. The Eucalyptus down here in Tasmania are evergreen, which means that I get to enjoy the leaves all year round! Covered with oil glands, Eucalyptus leaves have a wonderful odour. In fact, Eucalyptus oil is a wonderful thing. Great for relieving the symptoms of flu and colds, it also has antibacterial effects on pathogenic bacteria in the respiratory tract. Inhaled eucalyptus oil vapour is a decongestant and treatment for bronchitis. What other things can this marvellous thing do? Well I’m glad you asked! Stay tuned for tomorrow's exciting conclusion to THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF EUCALYPTUS ! Eucalyptus , how I love thee! Meanwhile, have a poem about another tree... Loveliest of Trees, the cherry now , by A.E. Houseman Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide. Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from sev...

Trunk of a gum at the High School. Geilston Bay, October 2010. On my way in to work this morning I spied the banner advertising the local rag – The Mockery Mercury – shouting: GET YOUR IQ TESTED Card in today’s MERCURY Alas, far be it from me to spoil your fun, but the local paper for local people is playing a cruel trick on you. Surely the results of the aforementioned IQ test is simple, if you purchase that renowned journal of language mutilation: FAIL !

One day, Henry is going to be taller than this Stringybark. One day.

Views from the Airwalk 1 (no spitting). Tahune Forest Reserve, September 2010. Have you every hugged a tree? If you do, remember to use protection in case of splinters! I've never been much of a 'tree hugger'. I'm more a 'tree patter on the back'. Trees are okay, but coffee tables leave less of a mess... Views from the Airwalk 2. Tahune Forest Reserve, September 2010.

A gum tree in Taroona. May 2010. Following the demands of the readership, today we're venturing into Jamie Oliver territory, so read the following with a li th sp. I have an RDO today, so Henry and I shall celebrate by making a fruit loaf. We will need: 300g mixed dried fruit 450ml hot Earl Grey tea 90g brown sugar 1 lemon, zested 3 cups self-raising flour 1/4 tsp nutmeg 1/2 tsp cinnamon 1 large (-ish) egg 1. Whack the dried fruit in a bowl, mash up a nice pot of Earl Grey and pour the bugger over the fruit, cover with plastic wrap and set aside at room temperature for a good few hours . 2. Preheat oven to 180°C. Mind your wrists. Butter a loaf pan like Des Renford. 3. Strain the fruit, setting the liquid aside for later use , then combine the fruit with the remaining ingredients. Now, here you need to gradually add the liquid, stirring until a soft dropping [ooooh eerrr missus] consistency is reached. Pour into the pan and bake for 45-50 minutes. 4. Meanwhile, make a s...

Fern Glade, home to the elusive platypus up there in Burnie, throws some great reflections on the water both morning and afternoon. I always like it when you struggle to tell where the water starts and the riverbank ends. This place used to be teeming with a subspecies of Emu (hence "Emu River"), that I fondly call "Mini Emus". They killed 'em all though. Every last one. Bastards.

I took this shot just outside the farmhouse we stayed at up in Burnie earlier this month. I do like a nice sunrise through. Here in Hobart, it's morning. It's Australia Day. It's time to go down to Bellerive docks to get some sausages and laugh at people draped in what is a profoundly ugly flag.