Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo.

How about that drool? It makes kissing all the more exciting!

I forgot to mention that on Fathers Day, we all went boat spotting down on the ~~harbour~~ estuary, promenaded along the waterfront, and then feasted on squid, prawns, chips and the like for an early lunch. Whilst doing so, I spotted a fellow with a ruddy great video camera - of the professional kind - filming us.

It turns out he was filming some 'colour' for Al Jazeera's English language TV station. He liked the look of Henry harassing seagulls so much, the little bloke had to do it over and over again until the Arabic news network agent was satisfied with the results.

So, if you're a fan of Al Jazeera, keep and eye out for any stories on Hobart, Tasmania, Australia, or small westerners who disturb sea birds. If you spot us, let me know!

Comments

Sue said…

I would kiss him...spit 'n' all.

8 September 2009 at 20:52

yamini said…

Yipppeeee, the drool is back on the blog.

Ezra seems to be really liking something for that long drooly mouth :-))

I will keep an eye out for the McCrackens on Al Jazeera. :-)

8 September 2009 at 20:57

Priyanka Khot said…

Wow! the lil TV stars. I love this photo of Ezera!

9 September 2009 at 02:52

kylie said…

that is so cool

9 September 2009 at 11:39

Roddy said…

What a pity as Al Jazeera is one of the stations that I can't seem to tune in. I trust the world takes to these children as I have.

10 September 2009 at 12:49

Kris McCracken said…

No word on whether we've made the cut!

14 September 2009 at 10:16

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...

Search This Blog