Silly Streets

Do you live in a Street or a Road? An Avenue? Something fancy like a Court or a something nouveau riche like a Chase? I just registered with an Australian site that offered (among many many others) the following:

Amble
Anchorage
Bowl
Brace
Brow
Colonnade
Copse
Circus
Corso
Cruiseway
Elbow
Follow
Fire Track
Meander
Nook
Pocket
Pursuit
Quadrangle
Ronde
Right of Way
Rosebowl
Tarn
Triangle
Viaduct
Wynd

The way they taught in 1912

Races of Mankind
The economic importance of race, as of religion, is very great, For instance, in the case of the Negro, climatic influences – acting direct and through the typical food – lead to the early closing of the 'seams' between the bones of the skull; and thus the development of the brain is arrested, and the adult is essentially unintellectual. On the other hand he is naturally 'acclimatized' against numerous diseases and other conditions of life and work which are very adverse to the White man. He is, therefore, of great use as a manual labourer in a 'steamy' climate e.g. on a cane-sugar plantation.
School Economic Atlas by J.G.Bartholomew, pub. Clarendon Press 1912

Its pretty handy when you have a colony to run and you can comfortably assign the native population to do the spadework as they are "essentially unintellectual". If young Brits were digesting this stuff at school, it is no wonder when they grew up and fanned out to do the work of the Empire they took a sense of innate superiority with them.

I'M the allies, YOU have to be the Germans.

Patch therapy

Marcus will be wearing a patch for an hour each day for the next eight weeks. We might have to get him a cutlass, a parrot and some sort of corsair or perhaps a small barque. I guess Michael, Giz and Hattie and Dog will be his crew. Elf can be the British Admiralty and I shall be the unpredictable Spanish fleet, carrying golden treasure (Snack Right biscuits) from the New World (kitchen) back to Old Spain (our bedroom).

Double cheese entendre (with fries)

Mum and Dad stayed with us Friday and Saturday nights. On Saturday evening Sally and Matt came up for a big family dinner. Elf made fantastic lasagne. Marcus was objecting to it, so Sally decided to emphasise the positives. He likes cheese, he likes peas, so her approach was obvious. "Come on, its chock full of cheesy peaness!" The assembled family spluttered, squawked and snickered, while Sally went back over what she'd said in her head to work out why it was so funny.

What's the matter darling?

Marcus had his knickers in a twist about something yesterday and was sitting on the floor blubbing. Michael has observed and listened and knows what to do in this situation. He patted Marcus's hair and said "What's the matter darling? Its OK. Its OK."

Walking to work

I've walked three days in a row, all lovely mornings too. Its like climbing over a W - lots of steep ups and downs. Here is a picture of one bit (no photoshop work at all).

Stuff they say

This is becoming a straight "kids say the darndest things" page. Its not the intention, honestly. Anyway - yesterday Marcus was carrying on about one of his recent interests - boxing.

Marcus - "People can get hurt doing boxing can't they?"
Elf (driving) - "yes"
Marcus - "They can get cut and fall down can't they?"
Elf - "yes"
Marcus - "We don't like boxers"
Elf (thinking it is unfair to blame the participants)- "well.."
(long pause)
Marcus - "But we like cardboard boxes".

Vocab update 2

Michael: "Door!" "Window!" "Capsicum!"

Michael comes in holding a video cover and grizzlingg.
Elf: "Did you snap your fingers in the cover? Or are your teeth hurting?"
Michael: "Ummmmm.... not sure."

Marcus: "Michael is inconsiderating. Inconsiderating is when you do something and someone else doesnt want you to".

We bought a digital camera finally on Saturday, then took it for a stroll along Marieville Esplanade in the daylight-savings twilight.

Jigsaw Queen

Elf was tidying up, putting jigsaw pieces in place prior to putting it all away. Michael was awestruck by her jigsawing abilities. He stared fixedly at her magic hands, saying "Clever mummy. Very very clever mummy".

Dadness at the Beach

I had a day of full-time Dadness on Wednesday. Allison was on holiday and we forgot about it. It was Elf's Wednesday on (she works a 5 day fortnight) so I looked after the boys. It was warmish so we hit the beach with the two giant earth movers from the toy library. They turned out to be duds in the sand - couldnt get any of my slurry out of the toy cement mixer, and couldnt dig any decent holes with the backhoe/bulldozer. We did what we could manually but the beach looked pretty much the same when we left as when we arrived. The boys were good, Michael didnt even consider scamping down to the water.

Later that day I took Marcus to the opthamologist. He said Marcus won't need glasses after all which is great. But he has a very slight turn which might need to be corrected with some patch therapy. Pirate time.

Cannibals

We came across some cannibals in a silly rhyme book. They met someone called Hannibal, but they said they were going to call him Stew. Having explained this to Marcus, we are now fielding questions daily about cannibals and cannibalism. Why did people eat people?

I have stressed that this doesnt happen any more, [although someone just told me that its a social problem in the Congo still.] I dodged the general question of why. Marcus answered his own question thus: "I suppose they didnt have any carrots or anything".

He returned to the subject yesterday. "Why didn't they just go to the shop?"

Miscellaneous weekend verbiage

Marcus at breakfast "You're my friend dad. You're my big toasted friend. You're my toast puddle friend".
Marcus at 5am "Wouldnt it be funny if greens turned into beans?" - He has no memory of saying this
Marcus looking at photo of young Cam and Adrian from next door: "They are good men arent they?"

Skiing

Lots of chat from Marcus about skiing this morning. First water skiing - how do you do it? I told him what I know, but I have never done it. He chipped in with a few details that made me think they've been reading a book on it at school. Then onto snow skiing. How do you do that? I've actually never snow-skied either (am I sounding like a bit of a stick-in-the-mud?) but I told him what I know. I mentioned that Grandma Ruth had done water skiing. She grew up in Sydney where they go in for all that hedonistic stuff. Has Grandad John done water skiing? No, I don't think so. he grew up here in Tasmania where its cold.

Marcus said that he would ask Grandma Ruth, next time he was visiting, to let Grandad John have a turn at water skiing.

The Wyllie-Watsons

We dropped in on Lynn and Scott and their kids Tom and Isobel in Launceston on our way south on Sunday. Marcus and Tom are similar ages and seem to have heaps in common. Isobel is 5 I think, but all of them (Michael too) played nicely out of sight while mums and dads yakked. It was great. They are exceptionally nice people, both primary school teachers. I have known Lynn since we were about 14.

Tom is a collector, and very fond of flowers. Marcus also loves to pick flowers, often pulls them apart but seems generally interested in them and excited by them. He did a really A grade drawing yesterday of some geranium blossoms. We TRY to praise the method and not the result (as advised by our parenting seminar) but when the result is really quite surprising its hard to just brush it aside.

Anyway. It was a lovely short visit and we need to get the boys together some more. I have a crazy half-scheme involving a picnic at Campbell Town.

Getting a handle on "dead"

A conversation can last years. I have been having the same conversation with Joe about the haplessness of the Tigers, since 1983. We used to chat in person, sometimes on the phone, for a while wrote letters, and got into email while he was living in Germany. Paradoxically, now he is only 250km away, we exchange terse SMSs every couple of months.

I have a feeling that the conversation I have with Marcus about the meaning of "dead" will go on until the hereafter. His latest contribution was delivered in that singsong way you might recite a long list. Except that it was a list of just one thing.

"...Food is dead when it comes out as poo..."

Effective Parenting

We resisted temptation to go to bed at nine last night, and instead went out to hear Michael Grose talk about Raising Happy and Confident Kids. I started skeptical, but ended up scribbling copious notes. After an evening with the boys I'm back to mildly skeptical. He made some very good points. One was that the role of dad and the role of parent are different and can clash. Dad is a caring role while parenting is essentially administrative.

He thought kids were raised today in a risk-free environment. I can see that people like me are scared to have more kids than they can monitor minutely, feed lavishly and educate to doctorate level. So the one or two kids we have get micro-managed by their folks and aren't allowed to make mistakes or solve problems themselves. it all rang true.

Paradoxically, it sounds like the people who read the least Good Parenting bumpf, but just get on with yelling at their kids, grounding them and occasionally cuffing them over the ear will end up with better adjusted and more resilient children.

Big plans

Elf: "When we build the new house, you might have your own desk!"
Marcus (excitedly): "When I've got a desk, I'll get a paper and I'll animate.. do you know what I'll animate?"
All: "What?"
Marcus: "Animations!"

Catching up with grey power

We stayed with Mum and Dad either side of our night in Melbourne. They enjoyed seeing the boys, the boys had a lot of fun and didnt miss us too much. We have brought back about 10 varieties of sea sponge and some not-terribly-interesting rocks.

Exhaustion2

As I typed the title above, the browser remembered I have used this title before. Trip to Melbourne for wedding - tiring. Daily life with boys - draining. Software problems at work - confounding. All accompanied by a strange bug in head and tummy that won't go away.

Wedding time

Its about time for another wedding. Elf's old friend Nick is getting hitched tomorrow in Melbourne. We are driving up to Mum and Dad's tonight, leaving the boys there and flying over tomorrow morning, then flying back the next day. We packed for all four of us in about fifteen minutes this morning, so it should be interesting to see what everyone is wearing by the end of day three.

Work is mad. I am simultaneously doing stuff about Uluru, WWI, and Bernard Otto Holtermann the 19th century gold miner and photographer. This is not the time to be blogging.

Reindeer

Marcus: "I know about reindeer. Santa pulls them in his ute".

Splinter drama

Marcus picked up a splinter from the back steps handrail on his way in to go to the toilet yesterday morning. He actually had his pants around his ankles already, the loon. I let him keep going inside and told him I'd pull it out when he'd finished. That was a mistake, as I didn't actually get a decent look at it until breakfast this morning. He went completely gaga about it and would not let us near it. I managed to get some Magnaplasm© on it over night which seemed to help it come out this morning. We held him down and prised his fingers from his palm and I eased it out with my fingernail. After blood-curdling screams rent the air for many minutes, he stopped and said to Elf "Actually, that didn't hurt at all."

Sympathy from the high chair

I was feeling a bit washed out at dinner the other night, and passed the time waiting for Michael to finish his dinner by staring at the table and massaging the back of my head in silence. Michael said "Daddy's very sad". No, Daddy's very tired. The scamp has been waking regularly at about 3am for no reason we can isolate. When we put him in our bed he immediately goes horizontal, headbutting Elf and scratching me with his toenails.

Swans Break Drought

Footy is over for another year, after a magnificent grand final, the Swans by four points. When you've grown used to grand finals that are all over at half time, it was enough to bring on a few heart attacks I reckon. For Aussie Rules novices, 4 is a very narrow margin, closest since 1966. Leo Barry saved the day with an heroic pack mark in the last moments. Interestingly the photo of the huge pack shows two clear infringements worth free kicks to West Coast, happening simultaneously. I'm very happy for a grand old club to win their first flag since 1933.

Kindergarten

Marcus had an evaluation at South Hobart Primary on Wednesday, to see if he can start kindergarten a year early. His birthday is two months after the cut-off date, but he's a bright spark and pretty on the ball socially. We thought Leslie, the coordinator, would see if he recognised any words, could add on his fingers and RRR stuff like that. Apparently she didn't ask him anything of that nature. Elf took him in, and when he said he was happy for her to wait outside, she did. She popped her head in 15 minutes later to check on him. He was quite happy, doing various puzzles. He said some of them were quite hard. Then he said "Mummy, can you go away again?"

Leslie rang yesterday to say she was impressed with his intelligence and confidence (particularly when he sent Elf away) and she is recommending that he be allowed to start next year. We will know for sure in December.

Finals fever

The AFL Grand Final is on tomorrow. I love that it is "Grand". I wish I was watching the Grand Final from the grandstand but like most people I will be watching at home on the box. One day Richmond will make it to the GF and when that day comes I will move heaven and earth to be there for it.

I was discussing it with Marcus this morning. I told him that my team hadnt been in a Grand Final since I was 14. He asked why not, so I gave him a brief summary of the Tiger's chronic failings over the last twenty years. "But" I said, returning to happier things, "tomorrow the Sydney Swans will play the West Coast Eagles to see who is the best team of the year. I'm going for the Swans". Marcus said "Maybe the Swans can teach the Tigers how to play better".

Bang

Marcus did a drawing this morning. It was quite interesting but the explanation was breathtaking. "This rocket is blasting into this car and this car is going BLAM and the fire is whooshing out of this into there and then he is exploding and then this bit goes BANG!!"

We saw the boys from next door on their front doorstep this morning. I said to Michael "wave to Cameron" and he yelled "HELLO CAMERON". Which delighted me. He's around 20 months and its a great age. He was dancing in his highchair yesterday. He started just like Marcus used to - with a silly smug grinny face looking left, looking right, then waggling his head then he said proudly "Dancing!". What a champ.

Michael is making up and singing little songs like this one:
Pine cone, pine cone, ev'rywhere
Pine cone, pine cone, ev'ry pi'cone

New Zealand journal 2/5/2001

This is a day from my journal of our honeymoon in NZ. We had arrived at Queenstown airport on the South Island a couple of days earlier to pick up our Maui Campervan, only to find we needed to post a $2000 deposit. Airhead clerk suggested we just run it up on our credit card - we didnt have one. So we took a sedan instead to get us as far as Wellington, withdrawing the maximum $1000 at ATMs each day as we went.

Levin, North of Wellington, Wed. morning. Had a big night. Got off the ferry [from South Island], rang the Maui [campervan] agents who are in Paremata, miles north of the city. They had no idea who I was. Freak time again. Canvassed options such as staying in a hotel in Wellington, another hire car etc etc. When I rang them back everything was sorted. Caught a shuttle bus to Paremata through heavy rush-hour traffic. (Saw sign for Bunnythorpe). Shuttle guy was into vintage cars and steam engines - showed us photos. Also had vintage moustache c. 1920. Driving through N. suburbs Poriura etc he said "This is where the, ah, darker personnel live".

Marcus has mice in his tummy

Marcus has taken the "butterflies" idea one step further. He has had an upset tummy lately and he claims he has mice in there. He says they'll be there forever. I said that they'll dissolve like all food that gets into his tummy from his mouth. But apparently "the food in my tummy bangs around like a tumbledryer".

Michael has been saying "Great idea Marcus!" a lot lately. Also "Sorry Daddy. Sorry Mummy. Sorry Marcus." He was into this routine the other night while I changed his nappy. Giz walked past at that moment so "Sorry Giz" was added, then he spotted Dog. "Sorry Doggy".

Ashes gone, sun came up

Australia has lost the Ashes to England for the first time in 16 years. In an unexpected twist, the sun came up as usual this morning. Looks like it wasn't the end of the world after all. After being comprehensively beaten by them, our captain Ricky Ponting has conceded that England are "a danger" to Australia's world cricket supremacy. How perceptive.

Choc frog

Michael quite often blurts out "chocolate" at unusual times. At the pool yesterday he joined Marcus and I in the water for the first time. He was tentative but very keen to try the giant frog slide. The giant frog is actually a Freddo - it is sponsored by Cadbury and has logos etc on it. I thought Michael was saying "Froggy frog! Froggy frog!" but unfortunatey he was saying "Chocolate frog! Chocloate frog!" Luckily he didnt try to bite into it. He had a few slides on it and generally scamped about the shallows pretty well.

He is not sleeping too well at the moment and consequently neither are we. We need to iron this out before we leave the boys with Mum and Dad for a night while we pop over to a wedding in Melbourne. I know they are going to be thrilled with the boys' progress since they last saw them but if Michael does what he did last night it might detract somewhat from the general effect.

The anonymous praise keeps coming

Boy, those automatic web-bot things sure love my work. See the comment attached to the previous post.

It has rained in Noah's-Ark-like proportions this weekend. Appropriately enough Marcus has taken do describing things as "two-by-two". When the four of us go down to the car to go out, we go two-by-two.

I've been off-colour for a week now. I've still got whatever it was that struck me in Melbourne last week. Its undermining my will to do things. The mower has been out in the rain now fior nearly two weeks. Aggggh. I'm a bad person, I am ruining my mower. The shower is all mouldy and I know the mould will stain, probably already has. I know its my turn to clean the bathroom. But - gee I think I'll have a little lie down. Again.

Michael enquires

Yesterday Michael (now about 20 months old) rode his quadcycle up and down the hall, into the kitchen, then suddenly stopped and got off. He walked into the loungeroom doorway, and said to Elf "Could we just... could we...just..." We were both completely flabbergasted. Its possibly a direct quote from Marcus, or one of us. Michael looked puzzled himself. Then he saw a toy truck he wanted to scamp around with and the moment was over.

Glasses

Marcus is going to need glasses. At least for a while. I feel quite sad about it. I hate to think of any part of our perfect little sausage being defective. I was told when I was about 9 that I would need glasses and I was very unhappy (I still wear them today). Hopefully we have caught his sight problem in time to correct it before it sets in permanently. In tests his right eye is quite weak, his left is perfect. Its amazing his reading and drawing and everything are so good when his vision is not.

He and I look very much alike. Now its going to look like we're taking it just a bit too far.

Monkey names

I have never been a big fan of the Spot books, but now I am. Spot (who is a puppy) has a friend at school called Steve, who is a monkey. That is the best name for a monkey. Steve and Spot do paintings of each other. Spot's painting of Steve looks just like Lou Reed. So Spot is on high rotation at bedtime.

The rear stairs

At Hobart airport, you walk out of the terminal across the concrete and climb up some stairs to get on your plane, just like the Beatles did in 1963 (not in Hobart, but you know what I mean). To get anywhere, in time to do anything, you have to leave Hobart on the 6.20 when it's still dark. Twice lately I have been told to "enter by the rear stairs" as I file out into the darkness.

First, your plane is not the one right in front of you, you have to follow a straggly line of other "guests" across the dimly lit concrete to the furthest plane. Then, there are no rear stairs. No problem for your wide-awake Red Bull-drinking young people I suppose. But maybe you are tired. Maybe you are from Oatlands and had to get up at 3.30 to actually get to the flight on time. Maybe you are old. Or maybe you just have an unshakeable belief in the truth as received from flight attendants. You might be wandering about the arse end of a 707 in the dark for some time before Janelle, Skye or Bindi notices you are missing.

How to annoy DJs

Here is a handy tip for flummoxing rappers, DJs, base-jumpers and the like. If they call themselves DJ EZ, or CrayZBoy, or Mister LayZ - insist on pronouncing it Zed. They hate it.

Sick

We've all been sick. I was at another interstate meeting yesterday (lah-de-dah) and I had to excuse myself to go and throw up.

But on a brighter note - I'm really pleased to see Peters Original Ice Cream is now "New and Improved!" as well. That Original ice cream just keeps getting better and better.

Canberra

Back to Canberra again tomorrow! My first "business trip" for about 5 years, we are off to talk to the Department of Veterans Affairs about a CD-ROM we tendered for and won. 2 planes there, 2 planes back, all in one day. Apparently public servants come out and hold their meetings at the airport sometimes for the "convenience" of interstate guests. We will be on the ground for 8 hours so I hope that's not the deal tomorrow.

Slackness, bloomers.

Blog slackness has set in. I am not dropping in every morning to mooch over things like I was - work is in a bit more urgent and various phase after 18 months of pushing DOMS uphill every day.

Marcus was drawing on the whiteboard the other day, dotting many dots in that annoying way that ruins the pens. But I was amused to overhear, as he worked: "dot, com, dot, AU, dot, com, dot, AU..."

This morning as I walked to work a schoolgirl did a cartwheel on the other side of the road, a little ahead of me. She had no idea I was there, I'm sure. She seemed to be wearing large floral bloomers, which made me think she had planned ahead. Still, I have no problem with outbursts of joy, even when they are not quite spontaneous.

Confidence

"Everything I do is good, every day!" - Marcus

Rugby Chess

On Saturday we played Giant Chess at Salamanca Square. MIchael slept in the stroller while Elf and I took turns matching wits with Marcus. I've never actually played with one of these giant public chess sets before. Its a funny experience, especially when you are playing with a 3 year old who is curious about the rules, but not interested in being bound by them. And when a whole outdoor cafe's worth of bored effete art-admin types are watching you. SO MANY women with Serious Glasses and Bright Red Hair.

After a while it got more and more physical. I imagined a game played on a much larger board, preferably turf, or even sand. The pieces would stay the same size, so they could be tucked under the arm and run with. They would have to be inflatable, but with solid bases so they stand up. The key point: if you were trying for instance to move your kings' rook's pawn to KR4, your opponent could rugby tackle you.

Histrionics

A difficult day on Friday. Marcus seemed fine on the way to school, then cracked up when we got there. I left him howling and he apparently kept it up for some time. When I picked him up it happened all over again. He gets very wound up, can't get words out, and it takes a while to get to the bottom of what his reason is.

He seems to have worked out his own coping mechanism, that sometimes he remembers to use and sometimes doesnt. He will manage to gasp out between sobs "Maybe next time we can..." [take a leaf home, or stay at Lily's house forever, or whatever has been denied him]. Having said that he starts immediately to calm down.

The sixties

"When you do a handstand, everthing goes crazy". - Marcus

I am regularly dipping into an old book called Tasmania Yesterday and Today. Ok, I'm reading it on the toilet. It was a high school textbook in the 1960s, and it is a fascinating read. It describes a past that is obviously long gone, but the present it describes is gone too. In a lot of ways I would never want to live back 40 years ago, but in some respects it seems like a very good time to be alive.

I don't mean "the Sixties" in the Woodstock, Women's Lib, miniskirt sense. In Tasmania in the 1960s there was an awareness of all of that, but to me the sixties was about keeping chooks and growing vegies. Local footballers were the kids heroes. There were less choices to make all the time. The highway went through every town, and the passenger trains were still running.

I woudn't want to go back but I enjoy visiting from time to time.

Drawing progress

Marcus has been banned from the computer for a couple of weeks for cat infringements. It might be a coincidence, but his drawing has really flowered. A few times before I have drawn a circle for him to add features to make a face, but he's never taken the idea on board to do it himself. Now he is doing beautiful people, with big bodies, small heads, nose, mouth, beautiful ears and belly buttons. They have all got the same finger-in-the-powerpoint hair, and beautiful individual fingers and toes on the end of conventional stick-arms and stick-legs.

Yesterday he drew a family of birds, based on a simple litttle drawing Elf did. Marcus's birds have great schnozzy beaks like Jimmy Durante, clumpy tails, and beautifully avian legs and feet. There are striations down the side that represent the wings.

He also designed a lovely "machine" with repeated shapes, like modular components, that is actually a vehicle with a driver. He is drawing with a fine uniball pen, and making intricate little details.

We are very proud! Until last week he had been drawing lots of "caves" which he made by making big circular loops of every colour in the pencil box, until he had a morass of colours that was very dark in the middle. And while they had a certain post-modern appeal I am really rapt to see him observe and illustrate too.

Jumpers

"I'll just get you a jumper, Michael". Michael starts leaping about, little wombatty two footed vertical hops.

What are jokes?

Marcus asked us this morning "What are jokes?" We tried to explain, and I gave him the example of "My dog's got no nose" my favourite tame joke. (How does he smell - terrible). Elf emphasised that it is often a play on words. Marcus unfortunately picked up and ran with the "smell" concept - his first joke was "What if eight people all called their dogs pooey gooey? HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAA!!!"

Snow

It snowed in town here yesterday! Proper snow, settling all over our yard, all over South Hobart, all over most of southern Tasmania and a lot of Victoria as well. It was amazing. It hasn't snowed in the suburbs of Hobart since 1986, my first year living here. I thought it would be an annual thing, how wrong I was. No-one yesterday was skiing to work like they did in 1986, but it was still pretty exciting.

Snowscapes are beautiful in the same way twilight landscapes are - the colours and shapes are all smoothed out and modulated by the snow (or the dark). We took a few pics, hopefully we'll have at least one good one to remember it by.

Blog Responses

I've had a few strange responses lately. Two girls from the States contacted me the same afternoon, and welcomed me to look at their blogs too. Their blogger profiles both list such hobbies as "porn" and "titties" so I think they will probably have lots of customers without me joining their fanbase.

I just got an anonymous one that said "I've seen many blogs and yours takes the cake! Keep it coming!"

Fantastic! But it follows up with:

"There's a new wave networking site that's really great! It pretty well covers new wave networking related stuff. Worth your time!"

Ah, and as I'm typing I just received another that says "Excellent blog! I give it an A+ with a Gold Star!! " then encourages me to check out how i can earn over 90k a year from home.

So - no more anonymous comments. I'll see if I can filter out porn site webmasters masquerading as loose women. (If you really are loose women, well, sorry).

Small sentences

Michael says the following.

Yes can.
Go out.
Got it.
Seat belt!
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10.
Septic New York! (meant to be Central Park)

And he has just started bestowing whole-body hugs complete with his head on your shoulder. He started with one for Marcus when Marcus was upset. It has to be said he was upset because Michael was trying to snatch something from him. it also has to be said that Michael surreptitiously tried to grab it again during the hug.

Hmm, theft disguised as compassion - the boy might go far in Centrelink.

Zero: A philosphical disagreement

"Is zero a real number?" asked Marcus last night. I think in the specific mathematical sense of "real" that it is. If I remember rightly.

Elf disagreed. She thought it was like black and white which are reputed to not be colours. Marcus thought it wasn't a real number because when you add it or subtract it nothing happens.

I pointed out that its very important in telling the difference between 1, 10 and 100. But also, 0 as an amount is very important. If someone says "Before I visit you I need to know how many tigers you have running loose around your house" - well, the answer 0 is very reassuring.

We sat around the table discussing the conundrum that "nothing" is actually something. It was, for our dinner table, quite intellectually bracing.

Stuff the winter trip, what about the cricket?

Er... I'm a bit bored with rewriting stuff about the winter trip out of my little book. I might write it up one fine day and then drop snippets in on slow news days.

Absolutely corking end to the 2nd cricket test last night. England beat Australia by two runs, and I had to have a stiff drink. If I'd had something to mix with the gin I would have had a few more. Heroic deeds, the best team won in the end, and fine sportsmanship to boot.

One thing that is really special about cricket is the sight of professional sportsmen doing something they are not best at - tail end bastmen. For those who don't know much about cricket, your team is made up of roughly half specialist batsmen and half specialist bowlers. Everyone must bat, but not only 5 or 6 players usually bowl. The less proficient batsmen come last in the batting order. This means that in a tight game, highly skilled and sometimes lethally fast bowlers are pitted against batsmen who range from capable to comically incompetent. Last night Australia's last three chased more than 100 runs with a spirit and bravery that brought a tear to the eye. That they didn't quite make it will probably make this game even more memorable than if it was just another Aussie test win over the hapless Poms.

Winter Trip days 4,5 and 6

Good sleeps all round. Met Lorraine and Ray who run the cucumber farm. Fed apples to horses. Drove up to Albury via thick fog until Yackandandah. Up the Hume to Gundagai where we intended to stay but it was too early in the day, and there wasnt much to do, so pressed on to Canberra to stay at Imp and Ed's house.

Boys are having fun with their cousins Karri and Miah, who are a little older than Marcus and Michael respectively. In Canberra you hang around the house until the frost melts, apparently. Then out, chip ice off car and get on with the day. Drove to Belconnen Market, kids scamped around, had lunch in the sun. Belconnen Biodynamic Meats blackboard "Beef. Pork. Lamb. Possum. Buffalo. Emu. Kangaroo. Crocodile. Mars Bar Cheesecakes." Back to I & Es, kids played in the (flat) backyard for ages. Marcus ran me through his rules for playing totem tennis, then wandered off to play in the cubbyhouse, saying over his shoulder "Work hardly!"

Went to Questacon, the science and technology museum. It was great (but quite hot under a perspex roof) and the kids loved it. On the ground floor is a 0-6 room, with lots of role-playing and a great water play area, complete with high chairs for littlies to get right into the action.

Drove out of Canberra after usual frost wait. Marcus was explaining something too complex for me to get my head around while I was driving, and I asked him to tell me again when we got there, as I couldnt concentrate on his story and the road.. "Try thinking, Dad"

Stopped in Harden, wheat town. All quite flat. Lauraleen's Hair Studio. Real country faces. Utes with huge antennas. Angle parking, wide street. Very flat from there to Junee, following railway, wheat sidings, galahs in flock, see for days and days. Cootamundra, lovely verandahs. Lots of empty shopfronts in these towns. Stopped for night in Junee. Sunset behind passing wheat train. Beautiful town like a Russell Drysdale painting. 2 storey verandahed pub. Stayed at nice family motel, let the boys watch a maisy mouse DVD while Elf and I had leisurely dinner.

Winter Trip Days 1 2 and 3

Day 1: Drove up to Mum and Dad's vacant house at Turner's Beach. (They are in Broome area roadtripping also).

Day 2: Mooched about, walked on the beach etc until evening then drove over to Devonport and into belly of large boat.

Day 3: Woke at 5.45 to PA talking about getting cars off boat. Ah - no breakfast. Bad crossing, very rough, boys unsettled. Air cond. bung, very hot all night. Tasmanian Premier Lennon and scrum of advisers standing around waiting to disembark - one lady advisor gave me classic down-nose look as I walked past with baby Michael. Drove north via Tyaak, Yarck, Yea (sounds like a coughing fit), lunch at Mansfield. Stopped at Power's Lookout - great views down valley as enjoyed by Harry Powers (bushranger) looking out for troopers. First night at Myrtle Creek farmstay near Myrtleford, hometown of Gary Ablett. Unusual 2 storey sheds for tobacco drying. Tobacco refiunery smoketack painted like giant fag. Walked about farm like townies and said hello to horses, goats and sheep. Stars eye-hurtingly bright and full moon.

Our mighty voyage

Hello! I forgot to say we were going away for two weeks. probably because I was trying not to think about it too much while I was at work. Anyway, we had a great time, and travelled all over the bottom right hand corner of Australia. We caught up with lots of Elf's far flung family and showed off the lads. I kept a journal on the trip and will be putting bits in as after-blogs.

Probably the best snippet was when we arrived in Canberra, where we were to stay at Imp and Ed's. Elf rang her parents across town to tell them we were at Imp and Ed's, and her father Bill thought she had said we were in Inverness. "That's in northern Scotland!" he spluttered indignantly. Not till some time later in the conversation did he realise we were actually at his other daughter's house a few miles away, as planned, and not shooting grouse on the moors of the highlands.

La la la!

Elf to Michael "OK, now let's put on your singlet" Michael to Elf "La la la!"

He is also reaching up to plonk some notes on the piano then announcing "A song!".

Marcus has been playing beautiful slow and thoughtful piano pieces in the last couple of days. REALLY beautiful not just I'm-his-dad-and-I'm-so-proud beautiful.

I dropped off Marcus at school this morning with some trepidation - he has made a major scene the last 2 times Elf has dropped him off. Somehow it didnt happen this morning, he happily went over to look at seashells. This made us very happy. We know Marcus has been worried about one particular boy who has pushed him a few times. We've been saying all the right things, like he just hasn't learned not to push people yet, and the carers will look after it. Marcus floored us by saying "Its because his brain isn't working properly". Ahhhh. Apparently that was the carer's explanation - and I don't think I could do better in their position really.

Going to Mount Wellington's house for dinner

I just remembered this story. We paid Manuel and Rhonda a visit on Saturday evening, and had a fabulous and extensive dinner. We took the boys along. Marcus had a few goes at saying "Manuel" on the way. As we walked up the street from the car he said "Is this Mount Wellington's house?" (Mount Wellington is the small mountain that dominates Hobart).

Michael's vocab is growing exponentially. He seems to just love saying words and finding new words. He answers questions now with a clearly enunciated, no-nonsense "Yes."

Top sneezes, bottom sneezes

Marcus sneezes a lot. He sneezes in the sun like Elf does. He sneezed in the car this morning and after I cleaned it up, he said "my sneezes are great!" Lukewarm agreement from Mum and Dad. "My sneezes are really, really, really (etc) great!" Mumbled assent from Mum and Dad. "My top sneezes and my bottom sneezes are great!" Er - what? "Top sneezes come out of THIS nostril and bottom sneezes come out of THIS nostril."

We saw the model airplanes at Richmond yesterday. Marcus is at the age now where he is very interested. Michael just loves having a big green paddock to run around in, and of course always runs towards the little gate where he's not allowed to go. Around 12ish someone yelled from the hut that lunch was ready. The last plane came in to land and the remote control aviators (all blokes) shuffled off towards the hut. We drove off to feed the ducks. Marcus said "I think the planes will have sky and grass for lunch".

At the Richmond bakery they have many blue, red and green ribbons from baking competitions, at the Royal Hobart Show I guess. I noticed in 2003 they came 3rd in the 7 inch unfilled sponge. I like the idea of each year, really FOCUSSING and giving your all to carry off the blue ribbon in the 7 inch unfilled sponge - its the sprint of sponges.

Black playdough

The red playdough and the green playdough have met and mingled. Now we have.. black playdough. Great for making witches, ravens, deep sea fish, 8-balls, er...

MJR vocab at not quite 18 months

When Michael thinks he's had enough of something he says "Finished!" If you say "Finished?" He says "OK!" with a tone of agreement that says he's pretending "finished" was your idea in the first place.

He started saying 'thank you" quite early - we loved that. Now its "thanks" as he takes the toast or bottle or whatever. No fuss, just 'thanks" and on his way.

When he see the ABC logo on a book or video now he says "SHOP!" because he pointed to it downtown the other day and Elf said "That's the ABC Shop".

Also - when Marcus bellows something to us from the other end of the house, Michael knows the correct form for the occasion. "OK... COM-ing".

Frozen Rat

"There's a mouse in the loungeroom" said Marcus. No, actually a headless rat. Elf put it in a bag and put it in the freezer.

We have had a lot of rat action, probably something to do with the chooks and their chook pellets freely available a couple of doors up. Our loquat tree might have attracted them once but it hasnt fruited lately. Hobart City Council sent a small officious man to inspect. The rat nests are over our back fence on council property so we can't do anything ourselves. Will the council help us? No - they are "native rats" and protected. Elf has inquired and the two species of native rat are the water rat and the swamp rat - neither of whom would be likely to live burrowed in a hill methinks.

So - the rat is frozen and Elf is going to drop it into the boys down at forensic (or something) who will do all that CSI stuff, recreate the scene of its murder and hopefully tell us that is a plain old rattus rattus. Then we'll see if the council can do something useful.

[The small officious man is the same one who visited our Amnesty stall at Salamanca and said we had to stop selling Graham's marmalade until we have it labelled with full nutritional information].

One day in India, 1998

15/9/98 AGRA Hotel Safari
We were up at 5 and on the road to the Taj Mahal at 6. We walked for half an hour through a sort of military reserve area and then through Taj Ganj to the Taj gates.
We were stalked by a few trishaws. Bree and PJ were taunting them in various ways. I thought up a new one: I just stood behind the trishaw while the driver was trying to talk to me. They are in a little enclosed shell. As he spun it around looking for me, I just jogged after him, staying right on his bumper so he couldn't see me. I ended up chasing him down the street as he fled.
It was overcast, so rather than pay 100R extra to get in for sunrise, we backtracked and had breakfast at Joney's, nice cheese parathas and great masala chai (spiced milk tea). Colourful, plastic Pepsi décor, with black velvet paintings of English cottages.
Back at the Taj a few guides approached us. We engaged a Mr. Hashmal, who cost us 250R between three. It only costs 15R to get in to the Taj Mahal, about 60 cents.
Inside the entry gate we walked 100m to a central square filled with Indian tourists, many in large groups. Mr Hashmal showed us where to stand to take all the classic photos. On our right as we came in was a huge gate, and through it was a tantalising glimpse of white. We took turns to occupy The Spot, as people in front of us obligingly ducked and people behind us grumbled good-naturedly.
We were searched on our way through the gate. PJ was carrying a carton of cigarettes for bartering, and they were seized. We waited for her, so we would all see the Taj together.
My first sight was a magical moment. It is very, very, very beautiful. We entered a large open garden from the right, with red sandstone colonnades on three sides. The Taj sat at the far end, with the Yamuna River behind it. On the left and right facing one another were two ornate identical buildings, the mosque and the guesthouse.
Mr Hashmal led us to the next Photo Spot for the famous symmetrical shot. Bree had with her a tray with cotton-wool kittens under glass, given to her as some sort of punishment by her work colleagues, and I had my Richmond Tigers sponge bag. We took a few silly photos featuring them. Indians are very fond of trick photos where people are leaning on/eating/wearing on their heads the Taj.
Most people know the story that Shah Jahan built the tomb for his beautiful wife who died. He planned to build an identical black one across the river, but his son Aurangzeb deposed him and locked him in a tower, with a tiny window to look out on the Taj.
Everywhere were crowds of Indians from all over the country. There was a large group of Communist convention delegates wearing green scarves. A group of women called Bree over to be in their photo, and she dwarfed them. A group of teenage boys asked us to be in their photos too - the girls especially seem to be a huge novelty. We got a few shots of the lads with the kittens and the sponge bag.
I met and talked to a couple with a little 2 or 3 year old boy. He was very shy and they scolded him for it. They kept picking him up and placing him back in front of me. I played pat-a-cake with him for a while. It was lovely and cool, sitting in the shade on the damp marble. It was their fourth or fifth trip to the Taj, I think they were from Ahmedabad.
We took our shoes off to go up the marble steps to the tomb. There is a large terrace around the main building, with a slightly sloping tower at each end. In case of earthquake or bombardment, the towers were supposed to fall away from the Taj. There was a welcome cool breeze up on the terrace - below in the garden it was quite hot and muggy. The foundation of the planned Black Taj can be seen on the opposite riverbank, and the red Agra Fort looms among the newer city buildings.
Up close to the walls you can see the pietra dura, inlay of semi-precious stones. The different colours came from all over the world; black marble from Belgium, red garnet from Zimbabwe, and jade from China, blue lapis from Afghanistan and yellow something from somewhere else. There are four-sided half-columns that have an Islamic chevron design that makes them look eight-sided.
The whole thing is so wonderfully designed, by Persian and Turkish architects. It is quite small inside. Mr Hashmal ruthlessly shoved Indians aside to let us see the wonders close up. There are natural draughts created by geometric pierced marble screens placed to catch the prevailing winds. The tomb, the doors and the gate in the distance line up perfectly. The glimpse of the outside world through the gate makes the profane world outside seem like another beautiful aspect of the Taj itself - I was quite affected by it. I found a quiet corner of the garden after we thanked and paid Mr Hashmal, and just enjoyed being where I was.
On our way out we saw a lawn being 'mowed' - a line of women and girls on their haunches with hand scythes, inching their way across the grass in the hot sun, and carrying the cut grass in their skirts.
Outside was an amazing ruck of trishaw touts and souvenir sellers. Everyone asks where you are from, where you're staying, what you're paying and where you are going next. One kid wanted to sell me tickets to Jaipur. I said I already had tickets, and why would I buy them from a total stranger like him? He said 'You spend some time with me, I buy you chai, you buy me chai, then we'll be friends and you buy ticket from me'. There were bright plastic cameras for sale that looked too cute to be real.
We engaged three pushbike rickshaws to take us back to the hotel. We wanted to have a race, and the drivers obligingly overtook one another so we could all take photos of each other. My driver calls the squirrels 'gillies'.
A friend of Bree's had raved about a site outside Agra called Fatehpur Sikri, an abandoned city. We found a taxi driver who agreed to take us for 350 R, guaranteed no shopping stops. Taxi and trishaw drivers seem to make a high proportion of their income from commissions. Merchants pay them to bring passengers to them, whether the passenger wants to or not, and it can be a major pain in the neck.
The taxi was comfy, and the driver was a really nice guy with nine fingers. We saw a lot of small thatched huts in the fields. We were shocked to see captive himalayan bears dancing under coercion by the road. We took a short cut that is also used by big trucks. The road had very soft edges and the trucks were heeling over at alarming angles. I shot some very jumpy super 8.
The taxi broke down in the middle of nowhere. Nine Fingers flagged down a covered jeep, and he and we got a lift to Fatehpur Sikri. He roused a few passengers out to make room for us - some were hanging on the outside and some were left standing on the road waiting for another hitch, while we looked out the back guiltily. Soon the jeep was flying along, overtaking and veering around bears. It was not at all scary since we were oblivious of each oncoming vehicle until we had already survived it.
We tumbled out at the village of Sikri. Nine Fingers pointed the way to the site. He didn't speak much English, but I think we agreed to meet in two hours. Two boys were labouring up the hill with a big market barrow called an 'Indian trolley'. PJ and I thought they were slacking, so we showed them how to do it, sprinting to the top with it and leaving them and Bree behind.
Fatehpur Sikri was really impressive at first sight. Guides came out of the woodwork and the girls engaged one while I was staring open-mouthed at the huge steep flight of steps that led up to the main gate. [Banana lassi has just arrived.] He asked where we were from in Australia. When Bree said Sydney, he said 'SCG - very good for Allan Border'.
We foolishly went off and wasted one hour on a fairly nasty lunch in a flyblown dhaba (truckstop). I had a mughlai paratha, thinking that for 40R it must be delicious (they are normally 12R - 20R. It was just a big fried crispy mess with no filling, very bad value. Yuk.
Fatehpur was a city built to commemorate a Mogul war victory. Sikri was a town of Rajput warriors on a hill. Our guide Ataullha had a great gesture to say 'fighting' - clenched fists pulling apart and banging together. 'Fateh' means victory. Another story says that the king Akbar came here to ask the local saint Chishti for a son. When a son was duly born, he built a city here in thanks and installed Chishti in a beautiful mosque. It was all abandoned after only sixty years. Ataullha says Chishti told Akbar that a holy man and a fighting man (the gesture here) could not live together, so the king would have to get out of town. Our guidebook says the water supply was unreliable. Whatever.
We wandered around the outside, the walls of beautiful red local stone. This is where the stone for the Red Fort in Delhi was quarried. There were a lot of smaller less important buildings going back to the jungle, their walls crumbling and the stone blocks disappearing for houses and cow pens in the villages around.
Then we entered through a side gate and found ourselves in an enormous open square. I had to wear a little sarong arrangement to cover my knees, as we would be going into a mosque. I was in a bad mood because my camera had mis-loaded so I was out of film. Ataullha said 'I am unhappy because I don't think you are happy today'. We saw the saint's tomb, which was opposite the main gate. We stepped over many tombstones of other holy men. Ataullha led us into the mosque, where prayers were just finishing. The crowd were all men and boys. As they filed out a couple of the boys practiced their bowling actions. I did one too and they grinned. One man had blue eyes - very odd.
The view from the main gate was (again) breathtaking. This hill dominated a vast flat plain, you could see for miles. I was soaking it up as much as I could, on account of having no camera, while a youth tried to sell me a sandalwood chess set. He understood and spoke English quite well, so when I said it was the ugliest chess set I'd ever seen and if he didn't beat it I'd push him down that flight of steps I mentioned earlier, he got the message.
Ataullha took us out behind the mosque through the modern village built literally against the wall of the old city. He was after a commission by taking us to a souvenir shop, but we were running late so we just marched back out again. The blue eyed man was running the shop. On the way we saw the grave of a prince, with a tiny grave next to it of his beloved parrot. An old man in the village had a grey beard fringed with red henna. Mr Hashmal had told us that henna in the hair kept the head cool, but it seemed to be largely a cosmetic thing.
Nine Fingers and his brother were waiting for us at the bottom of the steps, in a different and very flash taxi. On the way back we stopped to buy some old bike inner tubes, which became a towrope when we got to the stricken taxi.
Unfortunately, a bear-man was there. I tried to ignore him, but we had to have the windows down or we would have suffocated. It wasn't just the bear, the guy was a maddening bastard, so I had a go at him, and if he'd had somewhere handy to tether the bear I think we would have ended up toe to toe. I was having a surly day.
We finally got going, then stopped after nightfall in a no-tourists part of Agra to drop off the first car. On the way into town there was a broken down trishaw blocking a narrow market street. We somehow squeezed both taxis through.
What I saw today from the car; tin trunk shops, boys sliding down an upturned cart, a play fight, a real fight, loads of goats, some pigs, a moped graveyard, people squatting and talking right in the middle of fields, a beautiful house painted blue and green, walls painted pepsi pepsi pepsi pepsi pepsi, a female soldier, a huge railyard, a stationary train out in the country, lots of stuff.
Lots of small shops; goods are piled in front, then the shallow shop, then a long yard behind. Water is everywhere and people shitting in it. Barbers, electrical repair shops, lots of STD/ISD phone shops, baby clothes. The barbers have a picture of sixteen standard haircuts on the wall to choose from.
I am drinking plenty of chai as advised by Arian. Joney's masala chai is my favourite so far. I have spent 20R on clothes-washing soap, 150R on Relaxo thongs that don't fit, a little on drinks and food, and the rest through the kitty on meals, travel and accommodation. I have 800 rupees left from the $US50 I changed at the airport.
Geckos on the walls, squirrels on the ground.

Don Scott

1970s Hawthorn ruckman Don Scott is "a smelly bottom" according to Marcus. There is a picture of him on the back of a big football book that actually was a gift to Elf from her mum. The Fullagar family have a talent for quirky gifts. Have I mentioned the oxo cube wrapped in tinfoil? Best not.

Anyway. The back cover is a montage of old footy cards and so on, and this one has a caricature of big Don with his blousy long hair and big lips - he famously turned up to a tribunal hearing one evening carrying a manbag. And Marcus has taken one look at this outlandish caricature of this outlandish man and nailed him for what he always was. A smelly bottom. Perhaps the brown and yellow Hawthorn guernsey is to blame.

Miscellaneous

Its mild today, I just walked to work in shorts. Yesterday the frost was inches thick on the shady sides of streets.

Tumbledryer psychology: I find that I set the timer dial according to how badly I want the items dry, rather than how long it will realistically take. Eg - pair of socks/running late for work = set timer to 80 minutes.

A friend of a friend won $500,000 on Millionaire last night. Its the first time I've watched it in ages. I knew Yemen, I knew Jaques-Louis David, but I didnt know lugubrious. I might have come away with a few grand though.

Idea for a cartoon - friend says to upper classy looking wife, "How is George going with retirement?" Wife - "Oh, you know, he sits on a few boards and so on". (Friend can't see George in the shed reading newspaper and sitting on a few boards).

Piano-like

I have a very strange old piece of furniture. It has had a long happy life in an office at some time. It is a kind of hutch, with a few little square pigeonholes and large open area supported by turned wooden pillars like miniature chair legs. There once were six but by the time I bought it second hand, one of the central ones was missing. Marcus was looking at it the other day and he said "This is like a piano. There's three, then there's two". I thought it was an excellent observation - the remaining pillars look like the pattern of the black keys on a piano.

Michael is dancing beautifully now. A bit of foot stamping, some spinning and gyrating - he's quite a mover.

White water

I walked to work this morning. It's stopped raining after about five days - so not quite biblical proportions. We really needed it too. The little rivulet actually had white water rapids this morning.

I went to Jeff Blake's solo show Cancelled by Popular Demand last night. I was very impressed and urge everyone to get along. I think I'll go again on Sunday with Elf. The saga about Bob de Niro falling in love with a zebra and being mauled by lions was superb.

A rare picture of our lads

Are they plotting world domination? Probably.

Japanese

Marcus had a bad dream last night. "We were flying to Japanese on a plane, and a bad man took our white bag so we missed our plane. Then another plane to Japanese came and we were going to go but a lot of people came and took our other bags".

Michael is saying "I running!" "I spinning!" etc as he does them. He can point to or waggle his; ears, nose, eyes, hair, fingers, hands, feet and head. He calls Marcus "Marcoose" and he calls Giz "Giz". He said "daddy" when I picked him up from Allisons on Monday - the first time he hasnt come running to me yelling "Mummy!"

It was the boys last day at "school" yesterday. A little traumatic but only for me. I was surprised no-one in the office had told the ladies who actually care for the boys. I told them and they were disappointed but understood it was unavoidable. Elf's new job starts next week and the boys will start at "New School" then too.

Beach

We went to the beach on Saturday. Sounds mad doesnt it? It wasnt all that cold, probably about 12°, and no wind. We were visiting the Cruikshanks out at South Arm, and all the kids were a little bit stir crazy so we went for a walk. Its a lovely little beach, just down the lane and across the highway and down another lane from their front gate. The kids all dropped daks and skipped about in the water, mad little loons.

Marcus was right about Tingletree. It was the worst school in Australia. We have found somewehere else though, quite close to Elf's new job and quite close to mine too. The boys will have a visit there on Thursday with Elf and then start there the following Thursday and Friday.

I took the boys to the boat park yesterday, and my old soccer team were playing on the ground adjacent. I reckon I could still hold down a place in defence - they looked pretty pedestrian. I got out our soccer ball and both boys booted it about quite enthusiastically. I really enjoy taking them to wide open spaces because they so obviously love it.

Harsh judgement

Elf is changing jobs. Well, her old job was a maternity leave position, so we knew it would end around now. Her old job was Monday - Wednesday, but the new job is Wednesday - Friday. This means we have to find new childcare places for the boys as the current place is booked out and can't just swap days. They are both enjoying what Marcus calls "school" so its a shame.

Elf is taking Marcus and Michael today to see "Tingletree" which is a daycare place in New Town. I mentioned it to Marcus (who has never heard of it before) that we were hoping it would be a good "school". He said, "It's a bad school. Its the baddest school in Australia!"

So - we'll see. I hope its like when he won't come to the table, and says he hates dinner because its yucky, then when he eats a bit he wolfs it all down and asks for more.

Leaves

There are a few hardy leaves still clinging to trees. The sun is very low now, and this morning as I walked to work it was making the usually dark leaves a translucent red-brown. It looked beautiful against the blue sky.

Go taxonomists, go

The scientific name of the lowland gorilla is gorilla gorilla .
Don't confuse this with the western lowland gorilla, which of course is gorilla gorilla gorilla. They get extremely pissed off if you mix them up with one another.

Scratcho

Marcus: "Mum - Hattie scratched me!"
Elf: "Were you playing biffo with her?"
Marcus:" Yes, I was playing biffo with her, and she was playing scratcho with me".

Rees scores!

Marcus and I kicked a soccer ball around on the big soccer ground yesterday. We kicked a few goals, but Marcus got the idea in his head that to really be a goal the ball had to end up tangled at the bottom of the rusty chain-link fence. Unfortunately this ruled out one or two of my spectacular half-volleys from the edge of the penalty area.

Marcus dribbled a few through but he got the hang of running up to a dead ball to get more oomph, and then scored a beauty from outside the 6-yard box. Rees scores - Rees United are one up!

Another game Marcus devised required me to stand still on one side of the ground while he dribbled towards me from so far away that he was a mere speck in the distance. When he finally reached me I was bawled out (in oddly familiar phrases) for standing in the wrong place. "Next time listen to what I tell you!".

Quotable quotes from the weekend

"So, we have seen two planes today - one jet plane, and one prr, er, pell, er.. one other sort of plane." - Marcus
"Fire!" - Michael
"3 plus 3 plus 3 is nine!" - Marcus
"Water!" - Michael
"Have you got any... kings?" - Marcus, who has taken to playing cards
"No - MINE!" - Michael

Happy birthday Betty

Queen's Birthday long weekend. Usually long weekends are pretty hard work, but I felt like we got through this one pretty well. I have such a cushy job in such a convivial atmosphere that it is very hard to think of even ordinary weekends as "rest" anyway.

We went to Bonorong Park on Sunday to pat and feed kangaroos and wallabies. Marcus got to pat one of the koalas too. We go out there at least once a year, this was the first time both boys have been ambling around. Marcus took Michael's hand and led him down towards the first mob of wallabies - then left him and ran up to the first one, squatted down and said "Good morning". I thought that was hilarious.

We had a lot of roo poo on shoe and stroller wheels by the time we left, and I'm sorry to say (from a public health standpoint) that we tracked a lot of it into the Royal Hobart where we went to meet Nick and Anna's new baby Katherine Rose. Everything went well with the labour and she is bonny, sleeping and feeding well. Anna is tired but, one must say, radiant.

Space

I've been re-reading Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything. Everyone should read it.

Did you know if you sat Pluto on top of the USA it would only cover about half? Its tiny. Its smaller than our moon. I thought Pluto was the edge of the solar system, but there is actually stuff orbiting our sun that is fifty thousand times further away than Pluto.

I thought that the diagram of the solar system in the front of my Jacaranda atlas was to scale. I have always pictured it being this way when I read about space stuff. In fact, if Jupiter was the size of a pea, Pluto would be about 2km away and it would be the size of a bacterium. I would quite like to make a proper scale model. But if the biggest planet was a pea and the whole shebang was 4 or 5km long there would have to be some big arrows pointing out the planets.

I'll get back to you on the scale model.

September 11 explained

I was talking with Marcus about an old postcard from New York, and somehow we got onto the World Trade Centre being "knocked down by a plane". Actually it was my fault for saying they "used to be" the biggest towers in the world. Why did they get knocked down by a plane? "It was a big mistake" I lied.

Then a day later - were there people in the buildings? Were they at the top or the bottom? I told him lots of people were in there. They are dead now, they're gone for good. [We are trying to teach him not to lightly bandy around the words "kill" and "die" by teaching him that it is permanent and very serious].

"That's a little bit sad" he said. Probably empathising with the building - he hates it when the towers he builds get knocked down.

Freezing fog

Fog. Frost. Freezing fogs and frosts. Fog was rolling down the valley past our place this morning. It seems to mimic the water - all the tributaries meeting at the main flow. The rivulet flows down into the Derwent River, and our little stream of fog follows along above it and joins the massive bank of fog going down the Derwent. The river fog here is called Bridgewater Jerry for some reason lost in time.

Question - does the fog come up from the water? Or does the fog originate in some mystical way at the same source as the water and just follow it? Water follows contours, and so does fog, but fog has a bit of extra gaseous freedom that lets it waft around with the wind.

So, in closing: fog eh?

Turkish body language

Turks indicate yes [evet] by nodding forward and down. To say no [hayır] nod your head up and back, lifting your eyebrows at the same time. or just raise your eyebrows - that's no too. - Lonely Planet Guide to Turkey

I hope this is helpful to anyone in Turkey, going to Turkey or just surrounded by Turks who are constantly asking them questions.

About Giants - by Marcus

Giants can be fat tall, tall tall or medium tall. Giants are kind. There are people giants, car giants, house giants, truck giants and bus giants. Yes, people giants live in house giants. Giants can do helicopters and aeroplanes too. You are tall Dad, but you aren't a giant.

McBirthday

We took the boys to a birthday party at Kingston McDonalds yesterday. One of the kids was named Zeno (mum and dad found the name in a book). Books have a lot to answer for. I relived my extreme skydiving bungy-jumping days by going in to help Marcus find the way out of Hamburglar's climbing gym/maze/slide. You have to be able to walk under Hamburglar's finger to be admitted, BUT the fine print says that kids 3 and under have to be accompained by an adult. Shoes must be taken off, and I noticed all the little slots in the shoe-tidy fitted probably size 6 shoes maximum. I don't think many mums and dads actually get in there, and I don't blame them. I am no gymnast, I am 6ft and nearly 100kg, and the downward double corkscrew at the end nearly did me in. They would have had to cut me out with an oxytorch. Lucky I had only eaten a filet-o-fish.

Michael has been saying things like "hand" and "finger" and Marcus is very keen to visit Central Park, New York - heavily influenced by the Wiggles mentioning that there are squirrels.

Exhaustion

Sorry - exhaustion starting to set in. Not a lot of brain power available for blogging. Will make notes this weekend for big blog week next week.

Here is a recent pic of the boys working out on the whiteboard. The world map in the background makes it look like they are planning world domination - and maybe they are.

Grasshopper gloves

"Why is the grasshopper wearing gloves Dad?" asked Marcus. He's seen this video a few times and he always asks the same question. The grasshopper is also wearing a dandy straw hat and what we used to call "gym boots" but its the gloves that draw comment. Finally he worked it out on his own. "He's wearing gloves so when he changes the OTHER grasshoppers he doesn't get poo on his hands".

Today is Michael's first day at Friends Early Learning Centre ("school"). He seemed OK when I dropped him off and I havent heard anything so I hope its going OK.

DOMS is live

Dust On My Shoes is now live on the internet at www.abc.net.au/dustonmyshoes/

I got a shock to navigate to the promotional site that has been there for nine months saying "coming soon" and the real thing started downloading before my eyes! I have worked on similar size projects before but always for CD-ROMS. Being live on the net means a) potentially many thousands of people could see it and b) its tempting to keep fiddling with it. When you send a CD-ROM off to the factory to be pressed its all over.

Note - it is a broadband site. If you have a dial-up connection don't even try to view it, it will just be too frustrating. Sorry. Send me a message and I'll email you some edited highlights.

Sorry Dad

I heard "Sorry Dad" about 47 times this weekend. Marcus is in a very trying mood. A few times he seemed to be disobeying just to see what would happen. Then twice he became really upset because I was annoyed with him and only calmed down when I assured him I wasn't angry any more. Elf and I both get really tired of yelling at him.

We have been sending him to his room but we are thinking of instituting the "naughty mat" near the front door. Sometimes when he's in his room with the door shut he just settles down with a good book and it has no effect at all. He says "sorry" a lot but he hasn't learned yet that it doesnt undo what's been done. It comes out very glibly sometimes.

I feel bad because Michael is a stubborn and sometimes naughty boy but he gets off scot free often because he is little. We try to be consistent but it is exhausting. Marcus is just terrific with him and loves to play with him, but because he is twice Michael's size we always have to stop them getting carried away.

Bunks

We have passed Marcus' single bed on to Lily and bought bunks. Michael is still in his cot but some time in the next 6 months we will un-bunk the bunks and pop him in one. Marcus is keen for Michael to sleep in with him, which is endearing but not practical. I guess people short on money and space popped all the kids in one bed as a matter of course, maybe still do. I must ask Nick, he had the most deprived childhood of anyone I know.

What I started this post to say was I got some wooden letters out of the shed for the kids to play with - I made an unsuccessful mobile out of them years ago. Marcus laid the D on its back and said - its a bed! The D has big serifs that turn into the legs of the bed. Well observed and creative thinking. And now - a little D on its back on top of the big D - "They're bunks dad!"

Mum and Dad visited for a couple of days and the boys enjoyed seeing them a lot. They are off on a overland journey and we won't see them again until cricket season.

Food

We're having trouble getting Michael to eat, again. He's got another tooth or possibly teeth coming through, so that might be why. He is soccer-dribbling a ball down the hallway now and then giving it a final boot as he goes off to do something else. Michael plays happily in the boys' bedroom in a way Marcus never has. Often we find him just sitting looking through books. He also stands in front of bookshelves and puts his head on one side the way one does when browsing for something to read. Does he recognise the spines of the books? Who can say.

From "Guide to Horses of the World" - one of the varieties of bit is the old, reliable jointed snaffle.

Ratty

Marcus wouldnt have a midday sleep yesterday, and he got progressively rattier and more out of control as the day went on until he finally crashed out in front of a video. I had to ban him from going anywhere near the cats, and was close to banning him from going near Michael. They are both ambulatory now, and the size imbalance will never be greater than it is now, so hopefully things will gradually get easier to police.

Marcus "shirtfronted" Michael at one stage [quoting my mum - nice one mum] and was surprised and alarmed at the damage he might have done. Michael was fine though.

I am now on the Richmond bandwagon. They have beaten both last year's grand finalists, are 3rd on the ladder and only have 2 more interstate games. I have been hesitant because good starts have so often turned to ashes by July. I do feel it might be different this year. I will now boldly predict a finish in 5th spot, and a win in the first week of the finals. Go Tiges!

Marcus - nippy forward pocket

At dinner last night Marcus was telling us about what he did at the park with the daycare kids in the morning.
"I ran like this (runs around in a circle, arms pumping) and jumped like this (mighty leap) and then I caught a goal".
We asked - did the crowd cheer? Did they say "Marcus Rees scored a goal!"
"Yes. And daddy's radio said (adopts deep voice) 'Marcus Rees scores a goal and pops it through' "

My hair is dancing!

So said Marcus this morning as he wagged his head along to the Wiggles.

Michael is walking about quite a bit. He is taking things with him now, which is a development.

Last night, two minutes after we got home, both boys were down on the floor seperately poring over jigsaw puzzles, quiet as mice. It gladdened the heart.

From "Guide to Horses of the World" - on the Camarguais pony of France:
Some tendency to upright shoulder, but chest good and body short and strong in the loins. Hindquarters slight, with a penchant for goose rumps.

What?

Trading Up

We are now proud owners of the Ice Cream Car. It was nice taking the boys to Allison's this morning and cruising back to town listening to a CD. We do feel it is all a bit schmicko for us, but I guess in time it will be wall to wall crumbs, little plastic dinosaurs and wodged up tissues.

Marcus and I proudly stuck the Richmond membership stickers all over it last night. Elf was a bit resistant - but there are a lot of white Subaru Outbacks out there and its important we can tell it apart in the carpark. And the Tigers are travelling pretty well too.

Marcus is starting to get interested in the varieties of football. Yesterday he and I were kicking a soccer ball and he worked out some complicated rules where he would "catch a goal" by running up to the ball, doing a dance then diving on it. A goal is signalled by poking out two fingers a number of times. He was "the umpire" and I was "the person" and when the person catches a goal, the umpire says "That's a goal, person".

Michael is tearing around at terrifying speeds pushing the quadcycle now, like Marcus did - with the added excitement of Marcus running after him and tackling him to the ground or occasionally giving him an old-fashioned coathanger across the throat. We had hoped to be in a bigger house by the time Michael was this mobile. Winter in the hallway is going to be very lively I think.

Counting baby

Michael is counting and alphabetising like a champ. He has a terrific ear for words and a good memory, like Marcus. He can sing all of the ABCDEFG... song, hitting every second or third letter and giving approximate wumfles for the others. If you say "one", he says "two". If anyone says "OK?" to anyone else, he butts in with "OK!" He is walking a little more often each day - I get a huge kick out of setting him down on his feet and seeing him wander off upright.

Marcus had his pneumococcal shot this morning. He was always a real trooper for injections when he was little, but he knows enough to get scared beforehand now. Afterwards he said "I'm never going to do THAT again". How wrong he is, poor sausage.

Roundabout

There is an enormous new highway roundabout under construction down at Kingston, on the way to Family Day Care. I've been talking to the boys about it over a few weeks, and have only just realised that Marcus has been expecting a different sort of roundabout. Poor kid - he thought all the bulldozers and graders and so on were building a carousel-style children's ride.

Some recent sayings:
"I'm a little bit angry because those cars are not driving properly" - copied from me
"See you round like a whistle" - copied inaccurately from Allison
"That car is a dammit because its not letting us through" - hmm, maybe Allison
"HANG ON A MINUTE - That's not right" - maybe Allison

Also, from this morning's drive, after I told Marcus it was 9 months to his next birthday
Marcus: "I can count to nine: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, NINE!!"
Michael "Ten"

Wildlife

I encountered a brushytail possum on Saturday night. I jumped out of the car in the drive and he was sitting in the middle of Cascade Road looking at me. I was staggered when he started charging towards me as though he was going to have a piece of my leg. "Man mauled by attack possum", i thought. Then he swerved away and headed up the footpath, climbed a few metres up a power pole and took up surveillance again. Odd.

I have seen 3 wallabies, several possums and one UHM (unidentified hopping marsupial) in the last two months - all in fairly built up areas.

Michael Walks

Michael did quite a bit of walking on the weekend, which was very exciting. He even walked up to a ball and kicked it at one stage. I didnt see it but I like to think he chose a corner and slotted it away confidently (while looking the other way to fool the 'keeper).

I bought the boys a proper soccer ball on Saturday. We had been down to Cornelian Bay where they play school hockey, and walking around on the perfect grass (there has been hardly any rain here in the last 3 months) I was wishing we had brought a good solid ball with us to kick around. Now we have one.

We bought a pair of bunk beds yesterday - Marcus' bed has always been terrible - it was a bad buy. We hope bunks will work. They can be split into singles when the lads are a bit older and want to have their own rooms.

Marcus said "I look after Hattie. I'm Hattie's doctor...........Actually, I'm Hattie's vet.

Had a rushed dinner on Friday at aptly named Fish Frenzy wih Andrea and Phillip and their kids Isobel and Ronan who we met for the first time. Beautiful little boy. Both ours went to pieces for various reasons so we had to dash off. P and A are over briefly from Perth - it will be a long time before we see them again I guess.

Black stuff

Driving home last night after having dinner with the boys at Citrus Moon. It was about 7 and already pitch dark. Marcus asked "What's all that black stuff?" What black stuff? "In the sky".

When your child is 95% toilet trained (as Marcus now is) you feel quite free. Michael is still in nappies obviously, but the constant changing of one or the other's bot has reduced dramatically. This is great. There is a cost though, I have just realised. Now your conversation is interrupted, a bit like tourette's syndrome, with "Do you need to go to the toilet?"

Blah blah Marcus. Blah blah blah Daddy.
Do you need to go to the toilet?NOOOOO.

Blah blah blah Marcus. Blah blah Daddy.
Do you need to go to the toilet?NOOOOO.

Blah blah rhubarb Marcus. Blah rhubarb rhubarb Daddy.
Do you need to go to the toilet?NOOOOO.

Blah blah blah blah... I NEED TO GO TO THE TOILET!!!

Marcus talks like an alien humanoid when half asleep

I went in to get something from the boys room last night, when Marcus was not quite awake. He was shuffling around and singing to himself when I clicked off a switch. He sat up and said "Why have you come here?". I felt like Captain Kirk trespassing on the Forbidden Planet.

Solo

Elf is in Melbourne until Wednesday. I had the boys to myself from Friday morning until this morning (Monday) when I dropped them at daycare. We got on very well I think, better than I expected. Had a 4th birthday party on Saturday for Eleanor, which was outdoors on a very blustery day. Marcus wore a large blue beanie and looked very funny with his pointy paper party hat atop. Michael slept through most of it. On Sunday we had another 4th birthday party, this one for Miranda. I think we had 8 pregnant women at our wedding in April 2001, so the 4th birthdays are coming thick and fast now. Both boys had a great time at the 2nd party.

Marcus's twin tyrannosaurus rexes were named John and Pikka this morning.

When Marcus yells "Dad! DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!" Michael says "com-ing".