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Showing posts from January 31, 2010

If you wish women to love you, be original; I know a man who used to wear felt boots summer and winter, and women fell in love with him.

Henry is practising his pirating skills at West Beach in Burnie, way back in January.\ At the moment he's good at yelling " AAARRRRGGGGGHHHHH ", scaling rope ladders, extreme violence, and making a mess; he's less proficient in grog drinking, sea shanties and burying treasure.

How intolerable people are sometimes who are happy and successful in everything.

Before I start, I want to say that four am is far too early to have to put up with a whining and grizzling 18 month old. Here's a kookaburra that I snapped sitting on the power lines in Burnie last month. Most Tasmanians don't know that kookaburra's are actually introduced species here in Tasmania. Given that they love to eat snakes, I'm not complaining too much. Here's a poem. There's no earthly way of knowing , by Roald Dahl There's no earthly way of knowing Which direction they are going! There's no knowing where they're rowing, Or which way they river's flowing! Not a speck of light is showing, So the danger must be growing, For the rowers keep on rowing, And they're certainly not showing Any signs that they are slowing...

Prisons are built with stones of law, brothels with bricks of religion.

An excited little bloke atop Richmond Bridge thinks that he's spotted a runaway convict. Jennifer is not so sure.

Better that the light cloud should fade away into heaven with the morning breath, than travail through the weary day to gather in darkness

Back when Tasmania was still Van Diemen's Land, a lot of babies died. A lot of babies. Earlier this week I spent my lunch break wandering around St David's Park here in Hobart looking at the gravestones they tore up to make a park. I snapped a few photos off, and noticed the preponderance of children's gravestones. The stones alone tell a bit of a story so I'll keep my mouth shut and let you look.

At night they sway and wander in the waters far under, But morning rolls them in the foam.

Here's one from way back in the new year of Hunky Henry trying out the water fountain in Cornelian Bay, while Ez and Jen look on. You know it's an oldie, as the boatsheds to the left of Henry are no longer there, having burned down in [ahem] mysterious circumstances. For those unfamiliar with Hobart, Cornelian Bay is located on Hobart's western shore, pretty much opposite Geilston Bay.

The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, and breeds reptiles of the mind.

Sir John Franklin looks up towards a nest of bureaucrats no doubt readying the flak brigades as a State election looms. Franklin was Governor of Van Diemen's Land from 1836 to 1843. It is rather ironic that he spends his days staring at a building filled with civil servants, as they were the ones who eventually got him sacked for the ludicrous ideas of around incorporating more humane elements through reform in the penal colony. There's been a lot of talk about Franklin recently, which leads me effortlessly into Theme Thursday , and my advice of treating everything you READ with a critical eye. For instance, if you READ the inscription beneath Franklin (through the seagull poo), you'll find the fact recorded that he " discovered " the Northwest Passage. This, of course, is nonsense. He did disappear (and die eventually, of course), while attempting to chart and navigate a section of the Northwest Passage. Indeed, the entire crew of the expedition succumbed to sta

It is not titles that honour men, but men that honour titles.

Look at those eyelashes, they'd put a Hollywood starlet to shame, and it's all natural, baby!

You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.

I was thinking about calling this photograph A shag with a little buoy , but feel the title A cormorant with a little buoy might be a little more appropriate, lest anyone confuse me with Bill Henson...

We have to love because we love loving.

It may not be immediately apparent, but I - and thus my children - have a significant amount of Sicilian blood tracing through my DNA. Henry has not got it in his skin tone, but my word he has ethnic tendencies when it comes to emotive expression...

Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence.

One does love a nice pattern in life. Here you can see some of the LEGO metal structures that go into making a rock concert work. I like how they've painted the metal a nice bright silver, it almost makes you forget that they're a bunch of dirty, greasy poles!

For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.

Dangerous? I throw back my head and LAUGH in the face of danger!

Too long a sacrifice Can make a stone of the heart.

I know, I know, another shot of this rope and chain mooring down at Sullivan's Cove. What can I say? I'm a sucker for the low angle and the morning light. Note to self: avoid Monday mornings.

"Man," I cried, "how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom!"

Look Henry! Great White to the port side!

Shed no tear! O shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year.

Yesterday we were looking down, today we're looking up! Here is the sky as seen mid-afternoon on Clifton Beach. Like most Rorschach designs, I'm never very sure what these clouds are supposed to look like, so I shall go with my default answer that generally involves something sexual. "Two lovers in embrace." There you go. Diagnose that Hermann! Time for a top five. Yesterday, Henry managed to sweet talk the good folk on the Steenholdt's Organic Produce stall [the tastiest apple and pear producers in the known universe] out of a good eight or nine small Crofton apples, which prompts today's Top Five Apples That I Like To Eat ! 5: the little seen Catshead ; 4: the Pink Lady ; 3: the Ginger Gold ; 2: the Jonathon ; and, of course, 1: the beloved Granny Smith !