This will hurt me...

A young Alec Guinness.

The view east over Hobart. From Mount Wellington. May 2012. In the spirit of today's first book, I'm going to keep these reviews brief! One Minute Stories by István Örkény. Örkény's work is obviously an acquired taste. A little too bitter for my palate. Nightwood , Djuna Barnes. Seemingly a classic in lesbian fiction. That might explain why this non-lesbian didn't enjoy this at all. Are they making love or arranging flowers? I certainly couldn't tell... Waiting for the Barbarians , J.M. Coetzee. Fantastic stuff. This parable is universal, and just (if not more) relevant today than it was when first written. Really great stuff! The view nor' nor' east over Hobart. From Mount Wellington. May 2012.

Mount Wellington and a tree. As seen from Geilston Bay. July 2010. Once upon a time there was this... boy . This boy lived in a hut made of... cats . The cats - of course - were dead. Well, most of them were dead. One of the cats was... magical . Magical cats eating... mushrooms .

Playing silly buggers in the snow. Mount Wellington, August 2010. Circumstances yet again conspire against me! I had intended to make this post the very first in a Friday Book Club [of one] mediation on what I have reading of late, but alas, today I do not have the time to do it justice. That said, I promise that next week I shall ruminate on whatever it is that has occupied my bus journeys and lunch breaks during the week. So dear reader, expect a treatise on George Orwell’s slumming it Down and Out in Paris and London ; Evelyn Waugh getting amongst it in Abyssinia and Muriel Spark’s loitering with intent amongst a band of lunatics. To ease the pain, here’s another shot, this time in vivid colour panoramic surround sound !

There are more mountains and more snow. Mount Wellington, August 2010. Can you still hear the radio? Mount Wellington, August 2010. All the pretty flowers. Mount Wellington, August 2010.

Here is a shot atop Mount Wellington, looking west-nor'-west over the rather barren scenery. The harsh weather up there keeps a lid on most plant life, with small, hardy shrubs and mosses dominating. It gets rather wild and windy up there, and as noted earlier this year , it gets snow all year round. Time for Sunday Top Five! Today I am considering the Top Five Ten Tracks of the Noughties ! Thus, in no particular order and without doing a lot of thinking, here you are: Regina Spektor, Us Sufjan Stevens, Chicago The Shins, New Slang The Hives, Hate To Say I Told You So Wilco, Hummingbird Franz Ferdinand, Take Me Out Outkast, Hey Ya! Beyonce, Crazy in Love Alicia Keys, No One Wilco, Heavy Metal Drummer

Even the splendid Mount Wellington is blighted by the curse of the phallus. No, it's not a nuclear ICBM primed and ready to put New Zealand back into the stone age. Nor is it a TELEPHONE tower enabling spotty teens to cyber bully the delicate little flowers quivering in front of their tiny keypads. No, it's dedicated to the wonders of television and radio ! Without this baby, the good folk of Hobart would have no idea about Falcon the balloon boy, and we wouldn't know that Michael Jackson is dead (or is he...?) But it is Theme Thursday , and I am not here to talk about television, as the theme is TELEPHONE. It might not surprise you, but I hate the TELEPHONE [it's number thirty seven on my list]. I hate answering the phone (I generally don't unless I'm getting paid). I hate the way that they ring, buzz, beep and rattle. I hate people that go on about their phones. I hate telemarketers, teleprinters, telegeography. Man, I even hate Telly from Sesame Street.

You might be fooled into thinking that the top of Mount Wellington is a peak of some kind, with Henry, Ezra, Jennifer and I all precariously balanced on tip toes while endeavouring to take photographs and spit on the people below us. Alas, you'd be wrong! The top of Mount Wellington is in fact a Mars-like landscape. In February 1836, Charles Darwin himself visited Hobart and climbed the vicious beast. In The Voyage of the Beagle , Darwin described the mountain thus: "... The summit of the mountain is broad and flat, and is composed of huge angular masses of naked greenstone. Its elevation is 3,100 feet (940 m) above the level of the sea. The day was splendidly clear, and we enjoyed a most extensive view; to the north, the country appeared a mass of wooded mountains, of about the same height with that on which we were standing, and with an equally tame outline: to the south the broken land and water, forming many intricate bays, was mapped with clearness before us. ..." ...

Another one at around 8 months, and here is Henry relaxing atop Mount Everest. He has a wry grin, but that's because he got hungry half way up and ate three of the Sherpas. We're no longer welcome in Nepal or Tibet. Even the Dali Lama didn't see the funny side of it. You have to laugh though, the look on Tenzing's face!

I was greeted with a far lovelier scene out on the fire escape this morning. No doubt, you will recall the snow photographed yesterday. Well, it is still there! Only this time, it had a friendly rainbow there to keep it company. I want to share with you all part of my day. I just went to a launch of a campaign designed by, and aimed at, 'young people'. It was an open thing, hip and happening. There were TV cameras there, lots of money thrown at glossy brochures, stickers, stick-on tattoos, a new-fangled website, carry bags, magnets, the lot. The central component is a website projected as a 'multimedia portal for young people by young people' and by and large, they have done a reasonable job in their task, I wouldn't want to suggest otherwise. The thing that I have to note though is the audience. As I said, it was an open launch that was promoted widely. There were tables full of grub and drink for people to pick over. So who was there? Conservatively, I would wa...

FINALLY, after weeks and weeks of waiting, there is a little bit of snow to photograph! I have posted it in Autumn , and even a couple of weeks ago , but finally snow! It's lucky that I come in to work early though, as the mountain has been shrouded in cloud since nine o'clock this morning. In fact, my Fern Tree correspondent, Odette, informs me that there is snow at her end. I think that it is very much 'Scott of the Antarctic' up there at the moment. On another note, Henry and I are presently reading The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Murial Spark. We are both enjoying it very much, but Henry keeps asking when a woman really reaches her ‘ prime ’. And wouldn’t you know it, I have no idea! I would imagine that it would depend on the lady concerned, but I told him I would consult the world through teh Internets.

It was a truly tropical two degrees Celsius as I walked to work today, after a heavy (-ish) frost overnight. Yet still no snow on the mountain! To prove this to all of you in Internet land, here is a photograph taken from the fire escape of the building at 8 am this morning. You may note the cloudless blue sky. I am not really sure why, but it does seem to be the clearer the winter morning this year, the colder it is. I have been thinking about things very much of late. I decided that, on balance, I am in favour of them.

I’ve been very lazy today and posted a photo taken about five minutes ago from my office window. I've only been able to have it open for the past twenty or so minutes due to the ongoing jam session of a god awful talented up-and-coming local musical act playing their dire innovative interpretation of the sort of 'space rock' not seen since Hawkwind or Marillion. As usual in Hobart, Mount Wellington dominates the background. It’s a nice day today, and I hope that this is a nice mix of built-up areas and natural scenery. Hopefully it is more pleasing to the eye than yesterday’s snaps .

Here is a shot of Mount Wellington – which sits overlooking Hobart – as seen from the eastern shore of the Derwent River. This was taken just down the road from our house. For a reasonable chunk of the year, there is a good covering of snow on the mountain, which brings with it a chilly wind over the city. As a bonus, I've also included a picture of a younger Henry after his trek to the summit last July to experience the snow.