This will hurt me...

Jen considers heading south for the winter. Calverts Beach, February 2011. Now that I have a window seat at work: I estimate that I witness a minimum of three traffic accidents every week. I estimate that I witness a minimum of nine drug deals every week. I estimate that I witness a minimum of one act of physical violence every week. I estimate that I witness a minimum of eight acts of verbal abuse every week. I estimate that I witness a minimum of twenty three violations of the TASMANIAN TRAFFIC ACT 1925 every week. If I were a police officer, I’d have the best operational reports in the State!

Do you remember all of those here today gone tomorrow Britpop beat combos that came in went in the blink of an eye back in the heady mid-90s? I think that this motley crew could have easily passed muster in the pages of Select or the NME circa-’96 from the mean streets of Torquay influenced by a heady combination of Paul Weller and Chrissie Hynde. All we need is a name for them…

Jennifer explains the kind of advanced interview techniques that she practised during her time with the C.I.A. Henry was staunch in his belief that Elmo needed waterboarding, while Ezra retained faith in the good old fashioned "squeeze his nose until he talks" approached perfected in the 1954 Guatemalan campaign.

Windows everywhere... BEWARE .

Jennifer aides Henry in achieving his best Olga Korbut impression!

Here you can see [from left to right] Ezra, Henry and Jennifer all auditioning for the lead role in the new remake of That Girl . Personally, I think that Ez has best captured the Marlo Thomas-vibe. Henry is a little too Sally Field in the Flying Nun and Jen far too Mary Tyler Moore to best be that girl .

It's long overdue, I know, but here I present to you the gang all enjoying the Don River Railway! NOW IN HIGH DEFINITION!

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.

From way back on June 18, here is the little marvel himself doing the business! Compare him to Henry from January 2008!

Here are the three of them in the Royal Botanical Gardens on Good Friday, back in April. I'm tired. Todder-induced lethergy. I'm going to sleep. Good night.

I've opted for a "two for one deal" today, because I couldn't really make my mind up as to which image that I liked better. I am rather pleased with how these turned out, because I took them from a moving vehicle on our journey through the valley of love last weekend . Can you guess what they are? Those of you who are familiar with Tasmania's most excellent BEER would have no doubt jumped to your feet and shouted "MY GOD, I THINK THAT IT IS A FIELD OF HOPS!!!" If you did so, well done, they are precious hops. A crucial element to a successful amber liquid, Tasmania has the finest hops in the world . As we drove past, I did note a slight tremor in Jennifer's voice, and a speck of a tear on her cheek. As she has spent a the best part of the past three years pregnant and/or breastfeeding, she has forced herself to forgo what was once her favourite activity: getting out on the razzle .

Here are my three favourite people in a familiar situation to anyone with a toddler. Grouped together is mother, father (behind the lens) and baby, with toddler straying well behind to inspect various bits of gravel, rocks, grasshoppers, chip packets, empty cans, cigarette butts, bloodied syringes and broken glass. Eventually he catches up, but only after a multitude of threats and at least one [slow] count to five. Toddlerism is a kind of dementia, as is the state that one lapses into while being a parent to a toddler. We love him nonetheless.

No it is not a webcam, but this photograph was taken a mere forty-five ago on my way in to work. Here you can see a good old fashioned Hobart autumn morning, with the rain pelting down and me getting drenched. This one was taken on the corner of Macquarie and Elizabeth, while I was waiting for the lights to change. Come on Ampelmännchen ! Today is my wedding anniversary, an apparently I need to be showering Jen with leather -related goodies. Va-va-vaVOOM! To you Jennifer, here is a poem I wrote this very morning. Anniversary I love you i love you iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou I LOVE you I love YOU iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou I LOVE YOU iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou Happy anniversary

Jen makes a return appearance, accompanying Ezra on the see-saw down near Errol Flynn Reserve in Sandy Bay. Ez is quite adept at see-sawing and showed Jen a few tricks that he likes to try. In fact, the little bloke tells me that he is lining up to represent Australia at see-sawing in the Olympics, and practices his technique for six whole hours every single day. I haven't got the heart to tell him that the see-saw was removed from the Olympic schedule after Antwerp in 1920, along with the tug of war and the egg and spoon race...

So one computer is feeling better again, and the other is on its way back to health. The LOL sharks have been as disappointing as the latest hot young things forecast as the future of music. If that's the future of music, set the dial back to 1969 please! But I don't want to talk about it right now. I want to talk about today. I want to talk about the adventurous start to 2009 for the motley crew that constitutes my family. After a rough New Year's Eve that involved no alcohol, fisticuffs, or young lovelies in tube tops with ill intent; but rather more teeth, lots of screaming and very little sleeping; this morning we decided to take advantage of the cool but clear day and that a quick jaunt would be just the tonic. Our intention was to perhaps stop of at a little French patisserie, pick up ourselves a few little tarts and croissants, some café au lait and chocolat chaud to go around and then off to a playground for a bit of kick to kick, a spot on the slide, maybe a back...

So this is Christmas, and what have you done? Quite a bit, actually! Pressies been handed out and all wrapping, boxes and packaging has been scooped up before they can present a problem for the tidy-inclined (I had a process that worked out beautifully , thank you very much. Shifting all the food preperations to Christmas Eve emerged as a masterstroke, as the timing for an early feast of turkey (rolled in ham) and a mountain of veggies, followed by a HUGE vat of homemade chocolate mousse was all completed in a timely fashion to accomodate all the sleeping needs of both kidlets (not to mention the proud parents). The gift choices also seemed to be a winner, even the Frankenstein-ish concoction of Marino, Silk and Possum that I took a punt on. Very pricey, but the meterage has to be seen to be believed. [How they get these beasties to mate with each other really must be a sight. I can find nothing on YouTube...] Henry elected himself chief present-opener, and showed excellent form. I am...

I have here a matching set for your viewing please. Taken late yesterday afternoon, above you can see five month old super cool dude Ezra with his mum about to check out the chickie babes on a warm summer’s day. He thinks that the shades give him ample opportunity for a perve without being found out. Little does he know that the girls have long been wise to that sort of carry on... Below , you can see the restrained menace of a three month old Henry. Here, Hank is going for an enraged (but stoutly resolute) Mel Gibson in the first Mad Max and the cold, dispassionate killing machine portrayed by Arnold Schwarzenegger . I think that he pulls it off nicely!

There are more pros than cons to having a wife who is an absolute champion when it comes to breastfeeding. I'm deadly serious here, Jen would be a lock for Olympic gold if they ever introduce it as a competitive sport. The simply massive Henry was exclusively breast-fed for nigh-on six months (at which point he was the size of the average one year old), and didn't fully wean (his own call) until eighteen months old. In all of that time Jen soldiered through, producing bountiful good stuff to keep him ticking along as healthy as a boy giant could be. That said, he is also a fussy little bugger who demanded his mother's full attention during feeds, had four teeth at sixteen weeks and refused outright any notion of expressed milk in a bottle. So the pressure was very much upon her. The pros should be obvious: health benefits (for both mother and baby); good bonding time; less sickly kiddies; huge cost savings; no fumbling about with formula, bottles and teats; less vomit; l...

Just in case people think that I've gone too far overboard with all the Ezra-love today, I thought I better include a bit of Henry for all of his fans out there. While taking a few shots of the little little bloke, the big little bloke wanted a piece of the action. I told him that I'd put him on teh Internets if he could pull his best "Paris Hilton face". Well, I think that the little champion has achieved sterling success with this one! The name Henry is of Old German origin. Henry has remained popular throughout history evidenced by the fact that rulers from Britain, France and Germany have all carried it. Although Henry suffered a popularity slump in the late twentieth century, the emergence of Internet sensation Henry McCracken has reversed that trend. Not only that, Henry has at least twenty seven variant forms: Arrigo, Enrico, Enrikos, Enrique, Enzio, Hal, Hank, Harry, Heike, Heindrick, Heindrik, Heiner, Heinrich, Heinrick, Heinrik, Heinz, Hendrick, Hendrik, H...

Here you go, Ezra's first bath from a couple of days ago... Asleep in the bath? No problem? Asleep all day? No problem? Sleep more than ten minutes at night without demanding mum's boobs? NEVER!