Skip to main content

Oops, I did it again!


So, those canny readers who spotted my blue in Tuesday's post deserve a pat on the back. Indeed, the photograph featured a building and not a river, as advertised.

An easy mistake to make, and one that I am sure that you will understand! Tricky things building and rivers. The message that we should all take away from this is that even the best make mistakes, especially when they are rushing and very, very tired.

SO this photograph I present this morning was hurridly taken on my way to Canberra on Tuesday. I say that I was on my way to Canberra, but actually, the plane was heading to Melbourne. Then I sat in an airport for an hour, got on another plane, and that one took me to Canberra.

That is a nice example of the importance of Tasmania to the major airlines in Australia, you cannot get a direct flight to the nation's capital! Despite this, I have a little photo essay to come of the journey, but don't be afraid, I emerged unscathed!

Comments

I come from a media background...and mistakes like that are often done ON PURPOSE. It gets more attention, see? Did it work for you?
Kris McCracken said…
Diva, it didn't appear to do so!

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