(My) Photo of the day

Another photograph taken during late afternoon in the city. This one is of an old flour mill that used to overlook Franklin wharf, until they built some bigger buildings in front of it (as is usually the way). A special bonus as well today, as I've managed to dig up an old cartoon of the flour mill building from 1893.

I can't think of anything pithy or witty to say today though. I've missed my first ever day from work due to illness. Now it's not that I never get sick, rather I usually get sick on weekends or holidays! I think that I've managed to pick up whatever young Henry was suffering from.

It's a great time to be sick, as I still haven't written the presentation that I will be making for a Conference on Monday. Oh well, we'll see how that one goes in due time!

Comments

Jane Hards Photography said…

There is something in the water today. So many bloggers have commented on the new and old building scenario. Really nicely composed image

25 April 2008 at 05:11

Ken said…

It must have been quite a going concern in its day.

25 April 2008 at 10:51

Kris McCracken said…

It is funny to think how all of these very industrial parts of Hobart down by the water were all once just that - with slums on the fringes - and yet now they are the most expensive real estate in town! I suppose that is the way in most cities these days when working ports like Hobart's cease to be as relevant as they once were.

26 April 2008 at 21:57

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

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

This will hurt me...

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