This will hurt me...

When you are heading into work for yet another long day, you tend to cling to any bit of beauty you can find. East Derwent Highway, the Lindisfarne/Geilston Bay border. December 2010. I’ll call this one Thirty-five Words … Where is your cell phone? Charging Relationship? Exultant Your hair? Brown Work? Policy Your sister? None Your favourite thing? Serenity Your dream last night? Opportunities Your favourite drink? Coffee Your dream car? Feet The room you’re in? Exposed Your shoes? Sneakers Your fears? Rational What do you want to be in 10 years? Relaxed Who did you hang out with this weekend? Children What are you not good at? Apologising Muffin? Savoury One of your wish list items? Sleep Where you grew up? Coast Last thing you did? E-mail What are you wearing? Clothes What aren’t you wearing? Watch Your pet? Absent Your computer? Serviceable Your life? Emerging Your mood? Tired Missing? Always What are you thinking about right now? Thighs Your car? Huh? Your kitchen? Open Your summer...

The beautiful morning sunshine lamp shine of Hobart in winter. Elizabeth Street, Hobart. August 2010. The combination of a show shutter speed – necessary to cope with the poor light – and street lamps still on – because of poor light – have delivered an interesting effect in this photo here. I do like the way that prolonged exposure to the blaze of what is really a low watt globe almost burns out the [ahem] film . This leads me to my next instalment… 51. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? No, no I most definitely do not. A couple of chickens dipped in ink. On acid. At a Prodigy concert. 52. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Lunch meat? I like spicy Hungarian salami. I like ham. I had pastrami today. 53. ANY BAD HABITS? I have many, many bad habits. 54. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASSING CD ON THE SHELF? My CDs are all in boxes at the top of Henry’s cupboard. Most embarrassing CD? I had a clear out prior to the last move, and I’m not sure what is left (hundreds remain). The most embarrassing CD...

This one is way back from the start of the year, and sees a refreshed and revitalised Ezra propped up waiting for breakfast to be served. Kudos to any punter who can guess the little bloke's favourite frühstück behandeln ?

Fields filled with growing somethingorthers [potatoes? leeks? cabbages? onions? swedes? any ideas?] in Ridgley, just outside of Burnie. I do like the morning light on crops. This photo leads me into today's poem, from one of Australia's favourites, Judith Wright. Woman To Man , Judith Wright The eyeless labourer in the night, the selfless, shapeless seed I hold, builds for its resurrection day--- silent and swift and deep from sight foresees the unimagined light. This is no child with a child's face; this has no name to name it by; yet you and I have known it well. This is our hunter and our chase, the third who lay in our embrace. This is the strength that your arm knows, the arc of flesh that is my breast, the precise crystals of our eyes. This is the blood's wild tree that grows the intricate and folded rose. This is the maker and the made; this is the question and reply; the blind head butting at the dark, the blaze of light along the blade. Oh hold me, for I am af...

This photograph was taken down in Sullivans Cove last Thursday. It was a nice day last Thursday. This morning, I sit in front of the computer screen drenched to the bone, as the rain has returned with some vengeance. As usual, I blame the Welsh. I had an interesting experience on my way to work on the bus this morning. There I was, reading a book by a Ukrainian who writes in Russian (I'm reading an English translation), when on the radio played the 70s hit Radar Love by Dutch rockers Golden Earring singing in what can only be described as the most authentic American growl this side of the East Prussian belter of the Canadian beat combo, Steppenwolf. Globalisation is a wonderful thing.

In the morning light, from this angle, you'd never know that the Aurora Australis was painted bright orange. It looks battleship grey here! They must have had a couple of bags of chips on them, you can see some seagulls hanging about on the scrounge.

After a week of heavy frosts and bitterly cold mornings, this morning saw me arrive in town faced with a blustery gale and 14°C on the dial. It goes to show that some days you just get of things happening with the weather. Here is a photo of a purple morning sky, a bit of Mount Wellington with a smattering of snow, and a very bright moon, as view through the eucalypts and over Geilston Bay High School's roof. Don't worry, I am presently process some photo's of [yesterday's] birthday boy, and will post them as they come to hand. He was a lucky lad, and even got a virtual cake all the way from Delhi .

Here you can see the shed on another gloomy morning. Very apt for this wretched building. I was going through an old book the other day and found a sentence scribbled in my handwriting in the margin. I hadn't thought about the topic in some time, but I think I still agree with the younger me (although in general I am a little more sanguine these days). "This Descartes needs a good fucking kicking." What do you reckon? Does Descartes deserve a damn good thrashing?

As someone who does most of the cooking in this household, pulls his weight with the children and is far more inclined towards OCD with regards cleaning than my wife, I wonder what role the modern wife plays. Casting my gaze over these vintage advertisements, one can see why conservitive talk show hosts and former Australian Prime Ministers long for the 'golden age' of sexual politics. Why, this little old blog has featured women cooking , cleaning , reclining in a bikini , preparing multiple salad dressings , ensuring clean drains , helping the war effort , being pleasantly useless , ensuring their 'feminine hygiene' is adequate , unable to resist arseholes , pushing men to the end of their tether , gardening in uncomfortable-looking shorts , taking a beating and enjoying it and entertaining the troops . So I ask again, what role the modern woman? Surely not that envisaged by ad number fifty sums it up? Say it ain't so ladies!

We are rapidly approaching advertisement number fifty, so I am going to have to find a pearler for that! Today though, we are back to one of the many, many ads that feature our feminine friends (kind of like “our feline friends”, except with ladies instead of cats). I like this one very much, but am extremely disappointed that Mornidine, a drug once prescribed for morning sickness, was withdrawn for public consumption in 1969. My wife and I have not spoken at great length about it, but I am reasonably certain that her inability to get up and cook me a full and hearty breakfast each day was Jennifer’s greatest concern that arose from her bout of morning (all day) sickness. More distressingly for everybody concerned was the effect her queasiness contributed to the reaction of Henry, the caveman toddler , who – in the main – becomes livid when his needs are not catered for instantaneously. In the failure to adequately fulfil her matrimonial and motherly duty, Jennifer herself was quite up...

The photo I’ve posted today was taken a two mornings ago. It was just too cold and wet to stand around today looking for a decent shot before going to work! You know it must be cold when there are barely any people around at 7:40 am on a business day. The weather has certainly turned for us down here. Only a couple of weeks ago we we're sweltering in 38 °C, today it will be lucky to crack 14 °C. What a day to forget your beanie! This shot was taken on the city side of Davey Street, looking over Sullivan’s cove. I’m not sure what you call these clouds, but no doubt it begins with a ‘c’.

A lovely walk to work this morning, it felt very much like Spring has sprung, even though I think we have a few days until it is official! Feeling a bit better too, after grappling with my first ever case of Gastro on the weekend. Not pleasant at all. I think it was an early Father's Day gift from Henry. Here’s hoping that the lovely Jennifer manages to avoid it! I know that she has been meticulous with her hand washing.

There is something nice about being first in at work on a Monday morning, even if you utilise it for blog writing. Might I also add how pretty Salamanca Place is deserted on a weekday morning.