In winter, the Derwent often look darker in the morning. I know that it has more to do with the light than the cold, but it would somehow seem fitting to see and iceberg or two bobbing up and down out there. I have a question for anyone out there: do you swim in winter? If so, why?
So we've bought this massive great bed for Henry months ago, but he prefers the cot. Meanwhile Ez is stuck in a portacot waiting for the cot to be freed up when hippie hair Henry moves to the big boy bed . I'm thinking Ezra will be in that bed first, myself...
Here you can see some of Hobart’s finest skyscrapers from the vantage point of Davey Street. It’s easy in the midst of such awesome sights to get confused and image one’s self in one of the world’s great metropolises [metropolopoli?], like New York , Shanghai or Burnie . On the subject of big cities... [nice segue dude] There is a kind of Groundhog Day effect when one sits towards the back of the 4:45 Risdon Vale express. Seemingly interchangeable malnourished-looking, undersized squeaky-voiced miscreants compete in a simplistic game of one-upmanship that has a tendency to focus on five key areas. [The faint-hearted please note that the language gets a little ripe). 1. A complete breakdown of syntax and grammar (“Like this guy like was like that other guy like like that we saw at Johnnos”); 2. Tall tales of petty criminal endeavours (along the lines of “I nicked THIRTY Mars Bars from Chickenfeed the other day...” “oh yeah? Well I nicked FIFTY Polywaffles from Newtown Woolwort
Three photos for the price of one this evening. Above is Ez looking somewhat disgruntled as Henry has blown out his first ever candle on his first ever birthday cake. Below you can see happier times, before a gruntled Henry took the liberty to extinguish the birthday flame.
No, that isn't ice on the branches there. I do like the way that it kind of looks that way though. This was taken somewhere in Hobart, although I don't truly recall where, or when. Lately though. It was taken of late. By the look of the angle of the sun, I'd be guessing late-morning. Tuesday Q and A ! It's an easy one this one. In the deepest voice that I can muster: Why are people so unkind?
This photo was taken yesterday morning as Ezra was opening his presents up. A sullen Henry was not satisfied to be relegated to the role of spectator, and - for some reason unbeknownst to me - I have had my head cropped off by the missus. Ez is wearing his Sargent Pepper outfit made for him by his sole remaining great grandmother. I have more photos, and hope to get them up tomorrow, work permitting!
After a week of heavy frosts and bitterly cold mornings, this morning saw me arrive in town faced with a blustery gale and 14°C on the dial. It goes to show that some days you just get of things happening with the weather. Here is a photo of a purple morning sky, a bit of Mount Wellington with a smattering of snow, and a very bright moon, as view through the eucalypts and over Geilston Bay High School's roof. Don't worry, I am presently process some photo's of [yesterday's] birthday boy, and will post them as they come to hand. He was a lucky lad, and even got a virtual cake all the way from Delhi .
Here is the birthday boy, with bonus big brother sighting beside him. Due to the festivities, I'm a bit buggered today, so will hold off the extended birthday feature until tomorrow. So, hold your horses, and I promise that you'll see plenty in the day to come.
A street lamp on Elizabeth Street looking southeast towards the river an - eventually - Antarctica. This was taken one morning last week, and yes, that is the Marine Board building peeking its head in again. Here is a very special Sunday Top Five: top five July 19 babies who've passed on traits to MY July 19 baby ! Vitali Klitschko: combining cold Soviet logic with brutal violence, Ez reminds me more of Vitali than Wlad. Ilie Năstase: supremely gifted, if somewhat eccentric. The little bloke has Ilie's great originality and panache without the mental fragility. Herbert Marcuse: One Dimensional Man , Ez is anything but. Edgar Degas: They share a fondness for ballerinas, in both a critical and romantic sense. Vladimir Mayakovsky: committed to the cause and brave enough to ignore form. Ezra won't shoot himself in the head, however.