This will hurt me...

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

Here we have the homes of the some of the Hobartian elite [which must be pronounced AY -leet in order to convey the full effect that I'm aiming for]. As with many cities the world over, the former docklands of Hobart – once home to the worst sort of filth, disease and moral depravity that one expects among the lowest rungs of society – has now been transformed into la-de-da apartments, and once grimy and slummy terrace-housing have become “semi-detached town houses” fit for the sort of urban living now desirable to the privileged upper-classes. For over half a century, the Hobart silos were used for storing grain destined for export. As the utility of Hobart as a working port declined, and the global competitiveness of Tasmanian grain dwindled, the future of the silos looked bleak. Cue urban regeneration, and today they house thirty luxury residential apartments , and have become amongst the most lusted-after addresses in Hobart. The powerful and famous can be spotted each morning...