Skip to main content

Nwanyi umu iri o dighi ihe mere nabali o naghi ama.


Here you can see one of the new type of Hobart parking metre’s that can be found around these parts. Tasmanian’s typically complain at the $1.60 an hour rate, but this is literally 250 metres from the CBD and adjacent to Salamanca. I would imagine that this compares pretty well to the rest of the world.

The proverb is a great one from Nigeria, home of the tremendous Lagos City Photo Blog, where Lolade Adewuyi does a tremendous job giving us a look at a city that – despite its size and importance – is often overlooked by many in the west. Lolade is also a mover and a shaker, as evidenced by his crossing of paths recently with Ghanaian President John Kufuor.

The proverb is a ripper, and translates as: "When a woman has ten children, there is nothing that happens in the night that she does not know about."

I wonder what Jen has to say about that?

Comments

yournotalone said…
Trust me - all mothers are the same:)
Kris McCracken said…
Aigars, some just hit more!

Popular posts from this blog

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