This will hurt me...

A good stretch Hen, that's what you need.

I'd happily walk the plank for you.

Snake in the grass #1. Fern Tree. February 2012. The Tartar Steppe by Dino Buzzati tells the story of a young officer and his life spent guarding an old, increasingly neglected border fortress on a dull frontier. It's a slow book. Very little happens: our protagonist misses his chances to escape the drudgery of this post, and slowly drifts into the monotony of barracks life. His career, and (more importantly) his life slides by quickly. Then, almost suddenly, he is old and ready to die. This is a tricky book to categorise. Slow moving almost to the point of catatonic, it's about the need to seize chances when they emerge. The risks of being locked into dull routine and letting life slip away are more than displayed here. Not for the faint hearted! Second up is The Death of Napoleon by Simon Leys. The conceit of this short, but complex novel is that prior to his purported death in exile, Napoleon Bonaparte manages to switch identities with a noncommissioned officer by those p...

Oops.

Flying foxes have come a long way. Simmons Park, Lindisfarne. October 2011. Today's Sunday Top Five has seen the light and finally embraced a Biblical theme! You may be familiar with many people's favourite section of that rip-roaring book of Leviticus - essentially a book of rules premised on the notion that humans are constantly vulnerable to sin and defilement ; and helpfully lists the kind of ritual and rules that pleases God. For those familiar with the amount of smiting that goes on in the Old Testament, you really don't want to fail to please God. Perhaps the most disgust discussed rule is the hoary old chestnut about man on man action: Leviticus 20:13: And if a man lie with mankind, as with womankind, both of them have committed abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them. Cripes! In the spirit of such calm, rational and helpful lawgiving, I decided to choose My Other Five Favourite Laws From Leviticus That The Anti-Gay Cro...

Ezra has a seeming insatiable desire to climb. They say that the most famous three words in mountaineering can be attributed to George Mallory, in his response to a reporter's question as to why on Earth he wanted to climb Mount Everest. I expect that Ez would say the same. Because it's there.

Arrr, look out, gar! Thar be some 'ery naughty people approachin' us on the port side and Me think that their intentions be somewhat less than honourable.

You've been TRAPPED!!! Have you ever seen that television programme Trapped ? It's a popular item in our household. At the very least, it's a remarkable opportunity to test you abilities at mastering the art of the many and varied accents of the United Kingdom...

The park isn't all fun and games. Sometimes we go there and ponder our own mortality.

Jennifer aides Henry in achieving his best Olga Korbut impression!

Two little blokes. Two big smiles. What are they doing?

Here is dear sweet little Hanky climbing up a fort, recreating the storming of the Bastille. Unlike the events of 1789, Henry found no passers of dodgy cheques (times four), no "lunatics" (times two), and most definitely, no perverted aristocrats with a predilection for fresh-faced young boys (thankfully). No, all we found was some bird poo.

"For my next trick, I shall descend the slide... HEAD FIRST !"

So this Christmas afternoon saw us venture down to Nutgrove Beach down in Sandy Bay to check out their new playground. The playground is fine, the local kids, less so... That said, I did get to try out the new-fangled 'panorama' option on the camera [click to enlarge].

There's nothing cranky Hanky loves more than a quick game of hide and seek. Here he is behind Kate Moss's favourite hidey hole!

To the swings, boy's! To the swings! Here is Henry enjoying the swings down in Lindisfarne. He's in the process of trying to get the swing to go all the way over the top of the frame. One day, Henry. One day.

For a baby, Ez is an adroit little bloke. When he isn't gambolling through meadows of wildflowers or engaged in a romantic imbroglio with some ingenue, he can usually be found on the swings.

Here is a treat for the Henry fans out there: the big little bloke screaming all the while on a swing! This one is fresh off the presses and was taken just yesterday morning, as we went on a long hike to give Ez a better chance of sleep.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut...

Here is Henry doing his best impression of a French train driver. I really must say that his impression was spot on. We spent 45 minutes sitting on a stationary train and he didn't do an ounce of work, just sat there looking smug. Actually, that's not completely correct. True to form , he was not working. Rather, if you look very closely, you should be able to see that he is eating a tasty-looking scroll (he didn't share), from Jean Pascal's Patisserie in Newtown. What you can't see is the croissont that he snatched from me and gobbled up. Again, in a fine impersonation of a French rail worker, face stuffed full, he then proceeded to shout (mumble) "plus! plus!! PLUS!!! " ("more! more!! MORE!!! ") In the end, we called it quits and decided to walk home. Henry did make one last offer, he would think about starting up the engine for an immediate thirty percent increase in his sultana allowance, a funded pension indexed at three times the nationa...