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Even the upper end of the river believes in the ocean.


On Sunday we climbed a mountain. You know that already. The previous Friday, we hit the beach to collect shells (and wrestle sharks). Here's the view of Seven Mile Beach as we relaxed after a marathon Greco-Roman tussle with a Great White with bad breath.

It's hard work being Tasmanian.

On a side note, it should be no surprise that the troops are rallying the Save the Grand Old Dame. Regular readers know of my obsession love and commitment to that princess of Brutalist architecture, 10 Murray Street [click the link to see my treasure trove of photos].

Well, it appears that the groundswell has become a tsunami! Eagle eyed blog commenter Ms Havershom has alerted me to some attempts to avoid catastrophe and save the day (no doubt to atone for breaking Pip's heart, for you Dickens fans out there).

So, wherever you are in the world, you can rally to the cause and send the message that buildings of historical worth did not stop being built in 1890. You can sign the petition here, or even join the Facebook group.

Do the right thing...
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Comments

Sue said…
OMG!!! Is that a crocodile on the beach? Did the boys wrestle it into submission? Before or after the tussle with the shark?
10 November 2009 at 22:59
Roddy said…
Looks like firewood to me. Did you drag it home so that the next time I'm down there I can take it home.
11 November 2009 at 04:35
Kris McCracken said…
It has been crocodile weather of late. In the 20s, even!
13 November 2009 at 06:43
Kris McCracken said…
Roddy, it was damp.
13 November 2009 at 06:43
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