Like all weak men he laid an exaggerated stress on not changing one's mind.

The Carruthers Building emerges from the mist of the walk to work. St Johns Park, Newtown. July 2010.

Part One of the 100 Questions Meme!

Just because:

1. ONE OF YOUR SCARS, HOW DID YOU GET IT?

Left index finger, a nasty one right across the distal interphalangeal joint after a tragic accident involving an art room, a very sharp tile cutter, an attractive girl, a short skirt and inattention.

2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?

There are a few artworks drawn by Henry: relics of when Ezra shifted out into his own room…

3. WHAT DOES YOUR CELL PHONE LOOK LIKE?

A little robust Nokia.

4. WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?

All sorts. What a silly question. I have eclectic tastes. That said, I am not much of a jazz man.

5. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?

I believe that it was just prior to midnight, but to be honest, I can’t remember much about it.

6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?

A bit of peace and quiet. And far less snot.

7. WHO DO YOU MISS?

I miss Jen, Henry and Ezra when I’m at work.

8. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE KIND OF CHEESE?

I am ambidextrous when it comes to cheese. However, I do like a lovely Double Gloucester.

9. RABBIT OR TORTISE?

I’ve never eaten tortoise, but I like a slow cooked hare.

10. WHAT’S YOUR MIDDLE NAME?

James.

Comments

Magpie said…

Ha Ha to #6!

9 August 2010 at 13:17

Kris McCracken said…

Still waiting for that...

12 August 2010 at 09:18

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