Skip to main content

What is defeat? Nothing but education. Nothing but the first step to something better.


Here you can see Dear Little Henry and Dear Little Ezra separated by the infamous Berlin Wall. You might be surprised to find that the Berlin Wall had a section built from wooded lattice, and indeed that Henry and Ezra were around to see it.

You can tell that the photo is an authentic old one in the way that it is in black and white. Obviously, it was taken from the perspective of the east, where everything was painted grey, and colour photographs were expressly forbidden.

Comments

Roddy said…
You don't want these two divided by something as stupid as a wooden fence. Political differences maybe, but don't let it fester as it did with East/West Berlin.
KL said…
Where are the guards protecting the division of the wall :-D? I bet they are with cameras taking pics of cuties like H and E, instead of guarding the division :-P
Anonymous said…
This is a very educational post. I enjoyed it in spite of the location.
Kris McCracken said…
It is a cruel world that we live in.
prashant said…
I like the expression on the faces of both the lads. Ez looks in awe of his big bro, though. :-))
Kris McCracken said…
Awe is one way of looking at it!
Roddy said…
It almost looks like the big bloke is threatening you with the shovel and the little fella is wondering just how much damage he is going to do.
Kris McCracken said…
That's why they built the wall: the imperialistic West!

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