This will hurt me...

I'm an union man. Opossum Bay, South Arm Peninsula. March 2013. Wordless Wednesday. You don't get me, I'm part of the union. Opossum Bay, South Arm Peninsula. March 2013.

Tasmania is Australia’s island state. We're actually made up of 335 separate islands, each one completely surrounded by water. Thus, we have a lot of beaches. Ezra has run across a great many of these islands, and is confident in his opinion that we have the best beaches in the world . Given time (and the effects of global warming), we'll have the water temperatures to match!

Beach baby, Beach Baby give me your hand, give me somethin' that I can remember.

Exploring the rocks. Bicheno Beach, Tasmania's East Coast. January 2013. Stealing from Sunday Stealing again: 40 of The Most Random Questions Meme, Part Two ! 21) What’s something you’ve always wanted? To achieve self-actualisation. 22) Do you have hairy legs? Absolutely! 23) What does “Semper Fidelis” stand for? Technically it means "Always Faithful", but that isn't always the case... 24) Would you rather swim in the ocean or a lake? Ocean. I love swimming, but I find lakes a little bit 'icky'. That probably has something to do with some bad experiences with duck poo and extreme cold. 25) Do you wear a lot of black? No. I have the odd bit of it, but it gets too hot. 26) Describe your hair: Strategically tousled. 27) Do you have Entomophobia? Not in the slightest. If anything, I'm an Entophile! 28) Are you an adult? Chronologically speaking, yes. 29) Do you own or rent? I have a mortgage. 30) Do you have a tan? I have skin...

Strike a pose!

We've got him in training this summer. He should be right to ship out to those Somalian pirates by April...

Ezra has finally realised just how a lot of those rocks have found their way in Fossil Cove...

Bathing beauties? Opossum Bay, South Arm Peninsula. December 2012. The weather forecast holds mixed fortunes for our planned Christmas brunch right here on Opossum Bay beach. Fingers crossed. Here, have one of my favourite poems... After Making Love We Hear Footsteps , Galway Kinnell For I can snore like a bullhorn or play loud music or sit up talking with any reasonably sober Irishman and Fergus will only sink deeper into his dreamless sleep, which goes by all in one flash, but let there be that heavy breathing or a stifled come-cry anywhere in the house and he will wrench himself awake and make for it on the run—as now, we lie together, after making love, quiet, touching along the length of our bodies, familiar touch of the long-married, and he appears—in his baseball pajamas, it happens, the neck opening so small he has to screw them on— and flops down between us and hugs us and snuggles himself to sleep, his face gleaming with satisfaction at being this very ...

Cumulus cloud. As seen from Clifton Beach. December 2012. Wordless Wednesday.

RUN!

A spot of weather. Looking at Hobart from Little Howrah Beach. January 2012. Top Five Reasons That I Have No Time For A Sunday Top Five Today! Very busy! Going away! Cranky Hanky! No time! Oh bugger!

The view of Goat bluff from down low on Calverts Beach. Calverts Beach, South Arm Peninsula. January 2012. A fine start to the year with three books already done and dusted. First up The Eye , which is Vladimir Nabokov’s shortest novel. Set amongst the Russian émigré comunity in 1920s Berlin, it focuses on the enigmatic Russian Smurov. The action commences after the attempted (perhaps successful) suicide of the narrator. After this (potentially imaginary) death, his "eye" observes a group of Russian émigrés as he tries to ascertain their opinions of the mysterious character Smurov. Largely about ‘identity’ – our own perceptions of self and the social construction of our identity both for and by others – Smurov exists as a hero, fraud, nobleman, crook, "sexual adventurer" and spy in the eyes of himself and others. The central narrator gathers these observations in the attempt to construct a coherent portrait of Smurov. While the ‘twist’ alluded to in the author’s p...

Ez does a half decent Morrissey in front of Mount Wellington.

What?

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!

The waves churning in at a beach somewhere. Calverts Beach, South Arm Peninsula. February 2011. The other day I was fortunate enough to move desks at work. I’ve moved away from strip florescent lighting, a main street-type thoroughfare and some noisy neighbours to a big picture window, with a million dollar view of the river and (best of all), no florescent lighting. I’m prepared to tolerate the effing and blinding of some of the clients down below. We might have to talk about all those car horns though. Onto books! Circumstances have seen me pressed for time this week, so I only finished the one: Victor Pelevin’s collection of short stories, The Blue Lantern . As a fan of post-Soviet black comedies, Pelevin is right up my alley. The Blue Lantern appeared in 1992, and is infused with the kind of disorder that you’d expect to find in the confusion of the collapse of the USSR. Very ‘Russian’ in tone, this is a fantastic collection well worth checking out. Still more waves. Calverts Beac...

On your own in a kayak. Opossum Bay, January 2011. What could be finer than to be out on your lonesome with just the sounds of the gently lapping water, a slightly cool sea breeze coming in from the south-east taking the edge of the heavy afternoon sun? The smell of the salt, the sound of a sullen seagull off into the expanse. Nothing but you, some fibreglass and your thoughts to keep you company. I really am going to have to get off my backside and get myself one, aren’t I? So, in honour of this train of thought, today’s Sunday Top Five is The Top Five Places I Would Not Mind Paddling A Kayak Around ! [ Menacing ] Micronesia ! The [ Alarming ] Antarctic Peninsula ! The [ Kal eid osc opic ] Kamchatka and [umm… Kindly ] Kuril Islands ! The [ Deadly ] Danube ! (More of) [ TERRIFIC ] Tasmania !

It was tempting, but in the end, Henry and I did not hi-jack the boat. Opossum Bay, January 2011. I think that we need a little boat. Or a big boat. One of the two. Or maybe a submarine. Or some other kind of submersible vehicle. A hydrofoil? No, what we need is an ekranoplan ! Apology , William Carlos Williams The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentites stirs me to it: colored women day workers— old and experienced— returning home at dusk in cast off clothing faces like old Florentine oak. Also the set pieces of your faces stir me— leading citizens— but not in the same way.

Everybody goin' surfin', surfin' C.L.I.F.T.O.N. B.E.A.C.H. Clifton Beach, September 2010. If it stops raining in the next week, we might make our way to the beach again.

As summer disappears into the fog of memory, I look back with some regret at the heady days spent at the beach over the past four or five months. Oh the warm weather! The surf! The fine looking birds in bikinis ! Alas, it is behind us now. All I can do is gaze longingly at snaps taken at Opossum Bay, trying to avoid the teardrops from shorting out the laptop. Featured here (in both normal and panoramic form) is Opossum Bay, sans possums. Which, inevitably, leads me to today's Sunday Top Five; the Top Five Beaches That We Visited This Summer ! * Seven Mile Beach * Clifton Beach * Opossum Bay , South Arm Peninsula * Fossil Bluff , Wynyard * West Beach , Burnie