Leftover from Easter

My friend Mike's kids had this conversation just before Easter

Cooper: Jesus got deaded but then God magiced him back to life.
Mackenzie: I didn't know about the magiced bit.
Cooper: Yeah, yeah but it was after they put him behind the big Easter egg but he pushed it out of the way.

Correspondence Courses, 1955

Once again I have been indulging in time travel by reading old magazines. The ever-reliable September 1955 Sporting Life issue has an advert for Stott's Correspondence Courses. The names of the courses are very evocative of the times. Its obvious that there were still lots of jobs in agriculture. Among their offerings in 1955 were;

Backward Adults
Buttermakers' Exam.
Boiler Attendants
Dairy Supervisors
Dynamo Attendants
Expressive English
Herd Testers' Exam.
Police Entrance Exam.
Radio [For Amateurs]
Shire Engineers' Exam.
Shire Clerks' Exam.
Salesmanship
Stammerers
Steam Engineering
Window Dressing

Beaconsfield

We have started listening to/watching the news again since the Beaconsfield mine disaster happened. The survival of the two guys was astonishing luck. It is tragic for the family of Larry Knight, but all the locals up there seem to be walking the fine line of celebrating survival while mourning his death pretty respectfully.

There was a great story this morning that Todd Russell has asked for Saturday's paper to be sent down so he could look for a new job. Its a bit odd that there are heaps of photos and stories about him floating around, but not much abour Brant Webb who is trapped there with him. Either the family are very private, or some public relations firm got in quick and tied up an exclusive to keep all the best pics and details locked away for a New Idea or Current Affair story.

Bus Adventure

Marcus and I went off on a bus adventure on Saturday morning, while Elf took Michael to a birthday party. We caught the bus across the road that goes into town. Then we just wandered about the bus mall until we found a bendy bus - one of the long articulated ones with the accordion on the middle. It was going to Seven Mile Beach via Eastlands. We would have got into trouble with Elf if we'd gone all the way to the beach so we got off at Eastlands, wandered around and then had a babycino. After a while we wandered back to the bus stop, where all the buses go to the city. We had to wait a long time - it appears the timetable is only a rough indication of what to expect, and the drivers improvise on the theme like jazz saxophonists. Marcus is loving his adding-and-subtracting book so much, I set him some maths problems to pass the time.

Once back in town we realised we had missed our bus home by 3 and a half minutes, so we entertained ourselves in Franklin Square for nearly an hour and caught the next one. With meagre ingredients like seagulls, leaves, statues and a giant chessboard with no chessmen, we managed to eke out the time without resorting to mathematics. We both enjoyed the bus adventure very much. It was a novelty to sit next to each other (instead of me in front and him behind) and be able to point out things to him. If you've never sat in the middle of a bendy bus when it goes around a tight bend, you should try it. Its a reasonably cheap thrill.

Gizmo's Ears

Gizmo's ears have been looking very ratty lately. He had a cut on one that seemed infected and he was very touchy about it. Elf took him to the vet today, and it's much worse than I thought. He has squamous-cell carcinomas on both ears, and will have to have them almost completely taken off to prevent the cancer spreading. He'll be left with "teddy bear ears" - little flaps to protect his sensitive inner ears somewhat. The op might be tomorrow or the next day, so the poor fella is going to be sleeping at the vet's for two or maybe three nights. On the upside his general health is good and his heart particularly seems strong, so his chances of surviving the general anaesthetic are very good, for a cat his age. He is very old.

I was given Giz by a friend in about 1992 or 93, and he was already 2 or 3 years old. which would make him something like 16. I feel quite guilty about my general neglect of Gizmo since we have had kids. He has been a devoted mate to me for all this time, and now I find it so hard to spend much time with him. I am beating myself up about his ears, as I'm sure if I had checked them sooner he might not need to have the operation. I know he is in his autumn years, and have tried to prepare myself and the kids for the day when he's not around.

Our vet is Mary Bennett, who I have known since we were about 5 in Burnie. We seemed to be in the same class every year from that age to when we went to Uni, and even then we spent our first year at the same residential college. We haven't always seen eye to eye, but as we've matured we've rubbed along a lot better. Our kids get on well too, and her husband Simon is a terrific bloke. As it happened we went to their daughter Miranda's pirate party on Sunday. They love organising parties, and they do it very well. They hired a 20m long hall, and had an actual pirate ship in there. It was great. They both talked like pirates for several hours without slipping out of character.

Marcus was hopeless for the first half an hour. He would not join in, and mooched about with his shoulders pushed up around his ears. We just don't know what to do with him at times. I was a fairly shy kid myself, so I understand how he feels, but I wish he would give things a chance a bit more readily. He eventually got into it to the extent that when it was over, and people started drifting away, we had ANOTHER scene because he wanted it to keep going. I would have happily sold him to any passing gypises (or pirates) at that moment. Michael had a great time from go to whoa, in his bouncy-puppy kind of way. I wonder if he too will go through a serious young insect stage like Marcus is.

Football matters

I have to mention the Richmond Tigers. I was struck by a warm wave of optimism watching them play Carlton the other night. Although they were behind, all their young players were firing and suddenly the future for Richmond seemed brighter to me than for many years. They went on to win their second game on the trot, and suddenly the two losses before that don't seem so bad in retrospect. I'd better stick the new bumper sticker on the car while the streak lasts.

Some entries in this blog are meant to serve as general diary notes for me to look back on. I want to make a note about the York Park fiasco on Sunday, when the umpires didnt hear the final siren and let St Kilda score a point to draw with Fremantle.

1) St Kilda were absolutely terrible and this fills me with joy
2) The umpires have fudged it. Obviously SOME of them DID hear it but they have got their story straight since and now claim to have ALL been unaware it had gone.
3) The AFL are going to have a hearing tomorrow to decide if Freo should actually get the 4 premiership points and St Kilda none. It will be interesting to see if the principle of fairness (give it to Freo who earned it) over-rides the practical difficulties (footy tipping, betting, counter-protests and court actions etc). I think Freo have no chance in hell.

A Late Footy Time Capsule.
Final 8 - West Coast, Sydney, Collingwood, Adelaide, Western Bulldogs, St Kilda, Hawthorn, Richmond
GF - West Coast d Collingwood
Coleman Medal - Barry Hall, Sydney
Brownlow Medal - Dean Cox, WC
Norm Smith Medal - Chris Judd, WC

Guitar duet

This evening Michael was parading around with his ukelele. "I've got the music! [this is his name for the Wiggles Tape Recorder that doesn't work] I've got my guitar! Come on!" I rallied to his cause, and found the other ukelele, and we stomped up and down a while playing random power chords. After a while we were both stuffed, so I said let's sit down. We sat next to each other and I picked out a few lame notes with a bread-tie plectrum. Michael wanted this, so I found a real plectrum. He was holding his guitar properly, strumming it properly, and now and then doing the heroic strum-up-into-the-air thing like a folkie at the end of a long banjo breakdown. I plunked along beside him. He looked very happy and said "We are playing guitar together!" It was one of those golden moments.

Kites and Flags

On Wednesday I picked Marcus up after kinder. He was very keen to fly kites, even though the wind was very light. The best kite-flying place is in fact next to the Cenotaph, so I found myself back there again. After a bit of not-very-successful kite flying, and a kick of the soccer ball, we went over to look at the flowers and the flags. I didn't really want to force Marcus to think about wars and death, but he does ask questions about such big topics all the time, so there is no running and hiding from it. He asked intelligent questions, and recognised the flag of Tasmania hanging limply in among the others. Quite a few people came to the Cenotaph while we were flying the kites. One middle-aged lady and her mother asked me if I wanted their help getting the bigger kite up in the air. We tried but then all agreed with no wind it just wasn't going to happen.

Anzac Day

This is a catch up dadness for Tuesday and Wednesday, typed at home in the sunroom on the old iMac in the dark after a mammoth washing up session while listening to Don McLaren's POW diaries from the fall of Singapore in February 1942 to the liberation of Japan in Spetember 1945. That's a very, very long time.

It was Anzac Day on Tuesday. I went to the dawn service for the second year - I will try to make it every year now. It is very moving and observed with great solemnity by all ages who attend. I think the mere fact it's so early on a cold April morning concentrates the mind, and discourages those who have no taste for dignified silences. A brass band played quietly in the dark, with tiny LED lights on their music stands.

The address was read by a primary school girl. Like last year it was very mature, and read very confidently. I am impressed but also unsettled by this. I would probably prefer something more genuinely child-like, with less evidence of grown-up coaching, if it is thought desirable to rope in the littlies for these things. I can imagine if that was one of my sons reading I would be both proud of him, and disgusted with our species. Sometimes the things we have to teach children about life seem like a series of telegrams bearing bad news.

Later we all went along to the Anzac march. On our way up Victoria Street we walked past the marshalling point. Old diggers struggled out of cabs, or sat quietly in buses waiting for their cues. One snowy-haired gent was trying to get a recalcitrant sword into a scabbard - he must have been a major at least, or he's putting on airs.

Who should march is an interesting debate, but in the end it is for the veterans to tell us who they will accept beside them. In twenty years time, if I want to march because I was in the Army Reserve for six months and my grandfather fought in New Guinea, someone will have to draw a line including or excluding me. I would hope by that time we have stopped adding new categories to the back of the parade, because there will be no more wars.

Perhaps they should put up a little obelisk somewhere for people who manage to stop wars getting going in the first place. I'd go there at dawn too.

We bumped into Rob and Mel and Olivia, and shared the parade. It seemed shorter than last year to me. Rob's favourite was the Field Hygiene Unit.

Rob and I topped off the 25th by going to see Kokoda, a new Australian film about the experience of a small group of Australian soldiers, in the battle to push back the Japanese on the Kokoda Track in New Guinea, in WW2. My Poppa Frank Jackson fought in New Guinea. The movie was well made, and quite moving. The final address to the battered survivors by an officer (played by William McInnes) is very emotional. At the end though I felt like I had been through a pretty standard war movie, that happened to be about an Australian experience.

I am always suspicious of Australian claims to special status as warriors. I am sure everyone from the Italians to the Iraqis say the same of themselves. I suppose the one special thing that can be said about the Australian effort at Kokoda is that it was the first time in the war the Japanese had been turned back.

Sheep hugging cheese-eating Sunday

Mum and Dad have been down campervanning around the district, and we spent Sunday all together. We headed off down the beautiful D'Entrecasteaux Channel, to have a look at the GrandVewe sheep dairy. All their products' names are groan-inducing sheep puns.

They have terrific sheep cheeses, not just the chevre kind either. They have a sheepy blue vein and a sheepy havarti, among others. I had a nice goatmilk flat white. We bought sheep-milk ice creams for the boys. I had a taste, and it was pretty good, but at $4.50 for about a 50ml tub they aren't going to sell much when they get it into shops I don't think.

We went out to feed the sheep and one got a bit carried away and burrowed under the fence into the car park. Elf suggested I rescue it. I was a little worried about my back, but more about damaging a valuable ice-cream producing animal. I lifted it over the fence reasonably easily - it was very soft and cuddly. I hope I don't fall victim to that syndrome where fire-fighters go out lighting fires to give themselves an opportunity to be a hero. I might accidentally nudge a few sheep out into carparks so I can pick them up and give them a squish.

We continued on down the Channel to Gordon where the road does a big U and heads back up north, and found ourselves in Cygnet for lunch at the Red Velvet Lounge. The RVL is a hippyish kind of place in a great old building. It was a general store for a while but may have originally been a picture theatre. Although it's in the main street of Cygnet (bank and PO across the road) the view out the window from the toilets at the back is just cows in paddocks.

Shanes hold their own

The jaunt to Launceston went well in all respects except the actual lawn bowls results. The format was two one-hour matches. We were drawn against the two eventual grand finalists.

Breakfast was pies at Ross. Dean holds that they are the best pies, in the World. As he has been a roving Pie Ambassador for the UN (Nicole Kidman style) I don't think we can doubt his word. We got to the Trevallyn Bowls Club on time with no incidents. No repeatable jokes were told on the way.

We bowled reasonably well. Dean kept us in the first match against Trevallyn Cricket Club with three inexplicable drives delivered in non-driving situations. He didn't really intend any of them, he just was having trouble coming to grips with the parched and sandy surface at Trevallyn. However they came about, the three shots were worth 10 points saved and 3 points on the board. We still lost, deservedly.

Our next match I would say we bowled near our peak, but only won two ends. We lost 12-5 to Latrobe Hardware. The heads were all incredibly tight, you could cover six or eight bowls with a doormat. Our opponents had the edge in class. The late mail around was that their number 2 was an A grade ring-in who had played for Tasmania.

So, we found ourselves well out of the running, and challenged some local old-timers to a match because we weren't that interested in just sitting and watching the final. We finally put it all together, and the Shanes d Derek, Ronnie, Gordon and Vic 14-8, to salvage some southern pride. It was a very even performance from the team all day, with perhaps newcomer Dan taking the honours as best afield.

One of the old gents watching us play told me he played Tuesday Turkey Triples. "You bowl in threes, that's the triples. The winning team gets a turkey. Each. The losing teams put their cards on the table. One gets drawn, they win chickens. The rest stay on the table and there is another draw..." I was hoping he would say they win quail or pigeons. ..." and they, er, also win chickens".

So - if you are ever in Launceston with a couple of buddies at a loose end, remember Trevallyn Tuesday Turkey Triples.

Bowling Shanes Reform for Tour

The Bowling Shanes have been asked to saddle up again to play in an intrastate carnival. We are driving up to Launceston at dawn to take the green against the might of the Northwest and North. Due to work and holiday commitments we have had to draft in a couple of keen youngsters, Dan Stonehouse and Richard Angus, who've been impressing in the twos. The new-look combo has no weak links except perhaps myself - but I am an automatic selection because I offered to drive.

Stand tuned for news of our results. There is money up for grabs I believe. This will ensure all teams will be fielding ring-ins from A-grade bowls wearing home-made disguises.

More brewery drawings

A new drawing from memory with the chimneys left out to emphasise the poplars.


An old drawing from life.

Be sure not to mention this to the penguins

Some more ANARE code. Sometimes complicated emotional situations could develop in the isolation of Antarctica.

WYTEV I love you darling
WYVZO I can hardly wait for you to come back

YACET Owing to a misunderstanding
WUYGD Sea Elephants are breeding
WYSUX I think about you both all the time

YANUL I have put on a lot of weight
YOMWO Be sure not to mention this to
WUYVY Gentoo Penguins

YAPUL Have had minor frostbite
YANFA Staying in bed
YACIV Telegram mutilated

WYSWO Love and kisses

Practical joke idea #65b

I went to the toilet at the restaurant the other day. When you go through the door marked TOILET you find three further doors marked with a little man, a little woman, and CLEANER. I am tempted to smuggle in some signs in the same size and font as CLEANER that say CLEAN and CLEANEST, and stick them over the man and the woman.

Guffaw.

Backseat banter

Marcus: You're a smelly baby. You're Smelly Guy.
Michael: No I am not. I am Poo Guy.

I have grown a beard which is generally admired

Below are some example of ANARE code - developed to save space on telegrams sent home by Australians working in Antarctica. There are many categories, such as Weather, Health, Affectionate Phrases and Miscellaneous, which includes the following:

YIHPY Hello and how are you
YIGIK All your friends ask me to send their regards and best wishes
YIGJE Best wishes from all here
YIJNO I have grown a beard
YIGUM I have grown a beard which is awful
YIGYN I am not sure whether (to)
YIHEK Think I (we) ought
YIKOP Looking forward to seeing you (in)
YIKPO This place gives you a pain at times
YIKYR This place gives you a pain at times but its worth it
YIHKE I have grown a beard which is generally admired
YIHMO I have grown a beard but think I'll shave it off before I get back to Australia

Mild Peril

I found this on the site for the first Ice Age movie.

Wooden Anniversary celebrated with Meat

On Friday it was five years to the day since we were married! The traditional gift is wood. The blokey thing to say would be that I bought Elf a couple of tonnes of dry East Coast peppermint. But, the truth is we decided we have too much stuff, so we are making a small donation to the Bush Heritage Fund to help them buy a parcel of threatened bush somewhere.

On Saturday we had lunch to celebrate, at The Boathouse where we had our reception five years ago. In honour of the anniversary we sat on chairs made of cane (technically a kind of wood), at a table also made of some kind of wood. The menu was printed on pulped, bleached and flattened wood and we were warmed by the merry crackle of the burning of further pieces of wood.

The food, I am happy to say, was entirely wood-free. I had a yearling beef entree that was divine. Marcus has become a vegetarian, so we are not eating much meat at home at the moment. Elf had porterhouse. We dug in like a couple of lions at the zoo after a zookeeper strike.

Marcus has rationalised his vegetarianism very well, and we have decided to just let him have his way, as long as he is prepared to eat what we serve up to him instead. He says animals are our friends and we shouldn't eat them. Its a fine sentiment and one I find challenging to debate. But that yearling beef certainly was good.

Afloat on Easter Monday

The Aurora Australis Antarctic supply vessel at its home berth.



Michael and another moppet entranced by the waves. You can see from some of the details here that this ferry is slightly decrepit.

Easter Dadness

On Thursday Bill and Felicity arrived, from Canberra by car and ferry. They stayed with Mum and Dad at Turners Beach en route and had a nice walk along the beach. Boys were excited to see them, and leapt about like puppies showing off their various tricks.

Friday is a bit of a blank. Err... I remember a game of scrabble. And making about a thousand teas and coffees. We had atlantic salmon for lunch, that was pretty fabulous.

On Saturday we went to the Museum AGAIN. For Marcus and I it was our fourth visit inside a week. Bill loved the film of stormy sub-antarctic seas. The presentation of old stereographic photos from the Mawson expedition is still stunning, even on the fourth viewing. You pop on some special 3D glasses and the icebergs loom, the penguins are very round and fat, the ropes on the ship interweave in space, its quite amazing. The soundtrack is wonderfully clean and evocative. The makers avoided the temptation of adding a plonking voice-over.

On Saturday evening Elf and Felicity went to a very long and involved service at All Saints. Bill and I were actually on our way out to the car to go in search of them when they appeared. All Saints is the Anglican church down the road, where we were married and the boys were christened. It is very "high church" and they like to extend every little part of a service with latin, incense, lots of processions and people bowing to each other. They have a cast of about a dozen be-robed personages, who all have to bow to one another in turn. It all takes forever.

On Sunday we all (B and F included) visited the Moonah Farm (Saffy's house). We had an easter egg hunt, threw the ball for the dog, examined the chickens, collected a bucket of quinces.

On Monday we went on a ferry trip up and down the river, on the MV Emmalisa. I once lived at Bellerive and went to work in the morning and home in the evening on this little boat. They were patchy days at home, but I always felt happy with my place in the world when I was sitting out in the sun on the open deck with a coffee in the morning or a beer on the way home. The fare was only $1.50!

Bill particularly enjoyed the outing, old salt that he is. As we went under the bridge the recorded tourist info recounted the story of the disaster in 1974 when the Lake Illawarra crashed into one of the pylons, two sections of bridge fell and the ship sank into very deep water where it is today. Seven sailors died, and five more people died when a handful of cars sailed over the edge in the dark. Marcus asked a few questions about this, and said that he hopes when people die they come back to life again later. I reminded him that when you die, you are gone for good, so you always have to be very careful and do what mum and dad say. "What about Jesus, he died and then he came back didn't he?" Ah, Easter. It's not just chocolate eggs.

American podcasts starting to pall

"I like the new green tea and melon latte at Starbucks...and I also like the chai donuts."
Oh God - please don't let Hobart become any more like Portland, Oregon than it is already.

Rupert Bunny

At this time of year I always like to ponder the contribution to Australian art made by Bunny. Bunny formed an important tie between Australian painting and French Impressionism. His landscapes are full of light and subtle colour harmonies. He was very fond of carrots and crunchy apples, and often wore a little yellow tartan waistcoat.


The Orchard c.1925
Oil on board
63 x 48cm

Cascade Brewery

This is my first new drawing in quite a while. I looked back through sketchbooks, and I was drawing scenes around the brewery quite a lot about two years ago. This is a remembered night view, looking down onto the main facade with Knocklofty behind it, from Hillsborough Road.

Podcast free day

I am getting into podcasts in a big way. All day at work I am listening to people talk. I've noticed that I am missing work banter now. When you listen to music, voices from outside the headphones are able to cut through, you take them off and banter ensues. Banter is essential to a happy office.

Now I am getting to know crazy radio-twosomes in Cleveland and Oregon better than my own workmates. They are so funny, have excellent timing, and lots of little sound effects and stings to drop into the mix. If there are any dead bits where not much happens they chop them out. I can press stop and play when they get a bit wearing. They leave my work colleagues for dead.

But - my colleagues are all basically nice people and as I said, without the oxygen of banter the office will slowly die. So tomorrow I am having a podcast-free day.

How about those Tigers?

Two guitars

We bowed to the inevitable and bought Marcus a guitar like Michael's, except blue. We thought this might stop some of the unseemly guitar-grabbing and tuning-peg-twisting that has been going on. Boy were we wrong. Because the blue one is new, Michael isn't satisfied with his slightly used-looking red one. I think things are settling down a bit now.

In this picture they look like a couple of Ben Harpers about to burst into a searing slide duet.

Earlyness

When you have a schedule and stick to it pretty well then one day you run quite early, you notice a lot of different things. When you run late, you don't notice anything because you have your head down and you are red in the face and swearing. I was early on my walk this morning. I didnt see the old man with the dog whose head is in a lampshade-thing, but I did see a woman wearing shades and a peaked cap and carrying a huge silver open umbrella (and also walking a dog). It was not raining or overly sunny. She might have had an eye operation or maybe just conjuctivitis.

Also lots of families were sitting in cars with the doors open yelling "come on" to family members who were struggling out the door of their houses and yelling back "keep your hair on" etc. This business must be all over by 8.45 when I usually come through this area.

I saw black cockatoos and also a robin redbreast! Which perhaps is a native bird that just looks like that. Our robins are yellow aren't they? Completely tangential note: Ulverstone footy team (Essendon style jumper) are/were the Robins. Also North Launceston (same jumper) used to be the Robins before they went mainstream and became the Northern Bombers. Is this just a Tasmanian tendency? The fierce snarling robin mascot looks ridiculous.

Shanes Crazy Ride Ends

Ocean Child 14 d The Bowling Shanes 6

The slick Ocean Child combo wiped the floor with the Shanes earlier this evening. In light rain with occasional bursts of drizzle, the OCs calmly snudged out to a 5-0 lead, then before we knew it we were about 10-2 down and the small crowd knew it was all over. This week there was no barbie, no salad, no Shanettes waving the red-and-white floggers, and sadly no yelp from the Shanes.

We got a thorough bowls lesson from Mick, Mick, Mick and Daniel, who I believe are policemen. [The Ocean Child is a pub, for those unfamiliar with the Hobart scene]. They have been playing a year longer than us, and certainly seemed to be playing within themselves.

Still - we are proud of having come so far in one season. Stand by for a DVD of season highlights, available soon.

Shanes Progress to Ultra Grand Final

This afternoon The Bowling Shanes (Tuesday Night Champions) will be meeting Ocean Child (Wednesday Night Champions) in the ultra big, mega large Southern region lawn bowls final. We actually practised in the rain last night, so I guess any pretence that its just a bit of fun is out the window now.

Merv #2 drilled us in the various finer points of our roles. As "lead", I roll out the kitty when we win the previous end. One of the subtleties of lawn bowls is that sometimes the kitty is way out, sometimes quite short. If you find your opponents have a weakness on long or short ends, then when you have the opportunity to choose the length, you choose that which makes them uncomfortable.

Last night although it was pretty dark and raining moderately hard, I was hitting the mark uncannily well for short ends. (If it is shorter than a certain point or too long and goes into the ditch, it's out of bounds, and your opponent gets to throw it out instead). We'll see how I go under pressure tonight. All the rain has made the greens very slow. It could be an old fashioned low-scoring war-of-attrition mudbath. The greens are actually being pulled up and relaid in four days so even turf damage may not be beyond the pale of gamesmanship.

Go Shanes one more.

Lets Read About Parasites!

Marcus has got a very big book about insects and spiders from the library and he idolises it. Its that DK kind of information overload design with incredibly detailed illustrations and tons of little info boxes and captions and pointers and explanatory wangdoodles.

Marcus Read this page!
Dad Parasitic insects lay their eggs in the bodies of other insects or mammals. When the eggs hatch there is a ready made food for the larvae. When they grow the larvae burst out through the skin of...
Michael There's a K!
Dad OK, lets read another page now.
Marcus Its sad that that bug is killing that bee. Read that!
Dad The assassin beetle stabs the bee with its long proboscis and sucks out the...
Michael That's a W!
Etc etc.

We have all learnt a lot. I won't even mention what the book calls thehuman head louse.

Footy season is back

So, new hope is crushed so quickly. Richmond had their first game of the season on Friday night. About five minutes in Richo took a mark and lined up to kick for goal as though he had never done it before in his life, and the ball was a big cake of soap. The ball sconned a man sitting a few rows back in the forward pocket. "Ooooh" said the experts on TV "see how his left shoulder is dipping there..."

I think the real sadness of Richo is considering the other careers he has been denied by being a footballer. He could have been an Olympic high jumper or a brain surgeon. Instead he is still running around on the Richmond forward line and dipping his left shoulder when he kicks for goal. What a waste. And Richmond lost by 115 points.

The weekly wave

Every Monday a baby waves to me as I walk down Petty Street. His/her dad is labouring up the hill getting his/her three older siblings to primary school. They are all engaged in earnest walking and talking, and never give me the time of day (which is what one expects walking in suburban streets nowadays). But the baby always looks me in the eye and gives me a wave. I wave to the baby. And the week continues from there.

Snow!

We had a decent snowfall on Friday night. When you drive up the mountain to see the snow it depends a lot on timing and luck whether you will actually get to throw any snowballs. There are five or six gates that are closed or opened depending on how much snow there is and how safe it is to drive on the road. We have several times arrived at a gate still closed long after the snow and the driving hazard has gone. So it was yesterday. But we did scamp around for a few minutes as new snow was falling.

Great News 2

The Bowling Shanes 16 d The Bay City Bowlers 9

The Shanes led all the way to take out the Tuesday Night Twilight Bowls Grand Final last night. We had the BCBs 7-0 after three or four ends and we just continued to bowl well enough after that to keep them out of it. There was a good crowd including cheer squads for each team, and it made for a great atmosphere. Our little gold trophy has on top of it a man in a tux with a skivvy underneath, sending down a nice forehand draw. It's given me an idea for next season's Shanes uniform.

Next Tuesday we have a playoff with the Wednesday Night winners to see who will represent the South in the Tas Regional finals, which I think has $400 prize money. We're just taking it one end at a time.

Bowling with a Sausage

I had a little bowl yesterday afternoon with Marcus. He's getting better and better, and really loves it. This was his best bowl, about 4 inches from the kitty!

Great News 1

On Tuesday I took Michael over to Melbourne for the day to have a cardio checkup at the Royal Children's Hospital. He had an echocardiogram and an ECG, and eveything is looking great. They don't need to see him again in Melbourne until he's six.

He was extraordinarily well behaved all day, on both flights and at the hospital. He asked a couple of times where Mum and Marcus were, but he was quite content when I said they were at home. The hosties on Virgin all thought he was the bees knees, one said he was the best little boy she had ever had on a flight. He didn't cry at all and didn't even look worried. On the flight over I sat him on my lap, but on the way back he was keen to sit on his own seat, so he did.

I really enjoyed his company all day and was immensely proud of him, and obviously delighted with his good results too.

Mrs Willard by a nose!

Last night I heard some archival commentary from (I think) the Melbourne Olympics of 1956. Its sounded like the women's 100 metres, some kind of sprint anyway. What was amazing was that all the runners were "Mrs". I have just looked it up, it was actually the 1958 Empire and Commonwealth Games in Cardiff, Wales.

It was something like: "Mrs Willard holding off Mrs Young... Mrs Willard, Mrs Willard still, Mrs Young closing but its Mrs WILLARD FOR THE GOLD MEDAL."

Which leads me to imagine them as mumsy ladies in flowery housecoats, possibly carrying shopping.

While I'm working dangerously with stereoteypes, one of my other favourite radio moments was the call of a 100 metres heat at maybe the Sydney Olympics. The fastest sprinters in the world are generally from English-speaking countries, so the leaders in a race will often be Andrews, Johnson, Smith, Robinson etc. If your name is Yee or Al-Bhadawi you are probably not going to win a sprint. And its all over in ten seconds so there isnt time to even mention the stragglers often.

So this one I remember went like this.
"Green away well. Bolden. Green. Thomas. Green. BOLDEN CLOSING. GREEN GREEN GREEN! ITS GREEN FROM BOLDEN, Thomas third, Böhm,[excitement dying away fast] Akbar. Sato. Fung.

Up a tree

We had a very nice quiet weekend. Marcus has been exhausting us and himself lately. He is very over-excited at times and we are trying to teach him to calm himself down a bit. We decided to to keep to ouselves this weekend, and just enjoy being around the house together. Visitors often send Marcus into a froth of excitement.

We did have a surprise visit yesterday from Susan, Saffy and Immy. Saffy is one of Marcus's oldest buddy - they met at daycare years ago and get on very well. We had planned to have a picnic lunch in the Cascade Gardens, so we just made some extra sandwiches and took them along.

They have some quite big established evergreens, (don't ask me what they are) with well-spaced branches for climbing. Marcus climbed up into one and surprised the hell out of us when we saw his yellow-hatted head pop out three metres up.
Later he climbed up into another one. When I got over to see how he was going he was about four metres up and climbing. I realised that if he had a sudden loss of confidence I wouldn't be able to climb where he had, as the branches wouldn't support me. He climbed down with only a few wobbly moments. I was very proud of his adventuring, but glad he didnt get any higher before I spotted him.

That was the Commonwealth Games

Thanks for coming Malawi. Bye Bangladesh. Don't forget your hat, British Virgin Islands.

One last bit of commentary excellence, after Kelvin Kerkow won gold for Australia in the lawn bowls. ABC Radio commentator Charlie King was wrapping it up when his mind suddenly wandered. "Kerkow's route... Kerkow's route... [muttering] this is going to last me forever.." before he was suddnely cut off by the studio. I actually thought he might have had a mild stroke, but apparently he was back home 24 hours later calling the Darwin footy grand final, so its a mystery.

Starting the day the sausagey way

Marcus drew these lovely self-portraits at Kinder last week. (Captions by the teacher of course).

Dog left at home shock

Yes - you heard it here first. Michael deliberately left Dog at home when we left for school this morning. He had Dog, and then picked up the Big Red Car. I said, "No, leave the Big Red Car at home please". He said "I leave Doggie at home". And walked happily down to the car. I hope he gets through the day alright. I mentioned to the carer Natasha that Michael was flying solo today and might need reassurance. "That's OK", she said, "we have other soft toys". OTHER soft toys?

She might be in for a rude shock. But I hope he will sail through the day without a care and have a happy reunion with Dog this evening. We'll see.

Wiggles Live

We went to see The Wiggles today. Marcus had the day off kinder and I took a half day off to help Elf manage the likely hysteria. We got there nice and early, and found our seats in the next-to-back row in the Derwent Entertainment Centre. You wouldn't want to be prone to vertigo, its an awfully long way up.

There was an announcement shortly before they came out that the Yellow Wiggle, Greg, wouldnt be appearing as he underwent an emergency hernia operation yesterday, and today the Yellow Wiggle would be played by a man named Brett. Stunned silence all around.

Brett filled the skivvy nicely although Elf opined on the drive home that they had seemed to "lack leadership" today. I thought it was a great show, they did lots of familiar old songs and didnt do reggae versions or anything silly like that, that "consumate professionals" sometimes do to sound "fresh".

Highlights were; the giant inflatable Murray that kept deflating and donging Jeff on the head, the extended Three Stooges-like "blow me down" gag with Captain Feathersword and Murray, and the dancer who snaps his head about too much trying to bounce his banana like his mate with the apple could.

Actually the head-snapper (who we know is named Ben) did a great turn also as a dancing fish, where his head actually played the part of a dorsal fin, so for once extravagant movement was well in order.

Apart from the unfortunate absence of Greg it was all mighty good. Our boys were both tired before it began. Marcus alternated between frenzied moshing and lying stretched out with his head on my lap, asking "when will it be over?" - which is exactly how I felt the one time I saw The Ramones. MIchael was overwhelmed despite our very slight proximity to the action. He did give the troupe a hearty wave goodbye when it was "now let's wave goodbye to each other" time.

The merch was walking out the door as we left. They could have sold twice as many Flashing Big Red Car Light Sticks ($18) if they had ordered boldly. We missed out and consoled ourselves with an Activity Pack ($8).

On the way home I said I would look on the Wiggles website to see if we can order a light stick. Marcus had the excellent idea that maybe they send them flat to your computer, so you print them out of your printer then inflate them.

Shanes Progress to Grand (?) Final

The Bowling Shanes 5 d Rawhide 4 (after a tiebreak end)
-------------------------------------------------------
This was a very tight and tense match. Rawhide were 4-3 down going in to the last end, and were soon down by two shots, when Linda re-organised the head with a well judged firm draw. It left Rawhide up two shots and in a winning position with just the skips to bowl. Dean managed to sneak a bowl into the action to pare them down to one shot, drawing it 4-4. On the tiebreak end I got us up one shot early, and we held on to it throughout. Dean caused some minor bad blood when he bowled a blatant safety with his last shot, that barely went three metres. We won 5-4 but there was much muttering during the handshakes. Dave starred and I felt I bowled better than I have for weeks. I collected the kitty three times for the night.

This win put us through to the next round. The various teams eliminated in the first round gathered in the bar and around the greens and urged the survivors on.

The Bowling Shanes 5 d Stop, Drop and Roll 2
-------------------------------------------
This match was played in semi-darkness. We pulled away to 3-1 after four ends, then put it almost out of reach with the fifth end when we sneaked out to 5-1. Dean stood over the kitty using his mobile as a torch, initially as a joke but it was actually helpful. SDR held one shot in the last end. If their skip had been concentrating they would have sniffed a chance, as we only had one bowl in the action, and if they'd attacked it they could have picked up as many as four shots. The skip was suffering some kind of knee or groin trouble and seemed keen to just get it over with and get in to the bar and out of the dark.

So, we live to play again next week, apparently against The Bay City Bowlers. BCBs eliminated the favourites, The Individuals, so obviously they'll be tough to beat. There are still 2 other teams in the finals, so how this is a Grand Final is beyond me. The Mervs work in mysterious ways.

Bowling Shanes win some, lose some

I never got around to a match report for last Tuesday, because the whole thing was too confusing. We are in the finals now and we played two games of 6 ends each (instead of one of 12).

We lost the first game to a fairly average team, Macquarie Maulers (more real estate agents). This was our season low point. We clawed back some respectability in our next match with a solid win over the Bad Girls. No-one knows how the finals work, it seems mostly designed to keep all teams in with a chance as long as possible.

Anyway, we are taking on the Bay City Bowlers in a knockout 6 end stoush this evening, and after a training run yesterday at lunchtime, I think we are probably back in reasonable form. I tip the Shanes to win it 6-5. After which we have another 6 end knockout game against persons unknown.

Standby for results.

Ace Chocolate - a shooting star on the boxing scene

My reading on the toilet at work lately has been Sporting Life magazine, September 1955 issue. Today I read an article about welterweight boxer George Barnes. The names of most other boxers were very evocative of white anglo Australia in the fifties: Jimmy Reeves, Mickey McDonald, Joe Clark, Freddie Herman, Frank Flannery. There was the occasional Mexican and Filipino. Then we come to Ace Chocolate, from South Africa.

"Barnes unleashed fury on Chocolate, knocking him out in the first round". Then it was back to Tommy Burns, Freddie Dawson, Barry Brown....

More CG commentary highlights

"Katie Mactier wins the women's individual pursuit gold medal. [BANG] And there is the gun in the back straight for silver medallist Kate Bates." Seems a bit harsh. doesnt it?

Happy Birthday To Me

I'm 38! It scares me that 26 seems not very long ago at all, yet it is the same distance backwards as 50 is forwards. I am going to try my hand at Forward Planning (something I've never really done) and try to think of ten things I must do before I turn 50. When, as we all know, my legs will fall off.

I had a lovely day on Saturday. Nick and Anna and Lily and Katherine dropped in with choc and biscuits. Lily made me a beautiful card. We had to shoo them out so we could have the next event on the program. We drove out to the Bream Creek Show, which was terrific as always. The chopping was the highlight I think. In the first race the backmarker was off about 22 seconds, by which time one of the frontmarkers was around to the 2nd half of his log. The backmarker just destroyed his first half with about six strokes, ran around and took another six to finish first. Incredible strength, timing and accuracy. These blokes use special racing axes, incredibly sharp and shiny. Marcus loved it.

On Sunday, as Marcus was setting up the chessboard: "Can you tell me again where do the shepherds go?"

Waiting in the car at the supermarket Michael said:
"Doggie doggie is hot.
Doggie doggie is tired.
Doggie doggie is a rockmelon."

Your Games Network

I've decided to follow the Games in PNG pidgin. I urge you to do the same.

Long program Bikpela temporary stage tru long Australia, oli wok long putim kamap long Melbourne Crikcet Graun, redi long Opening seremoni blong Comonwealth Games. Baton blong ibin stop autsait long Australia Wo Memorial tede long san long Canberra.

Strong in the Pommel

The Commie Games have finally got going. I was listening to a bit of ABC radio coverage last night. Its amazing how they get all hands to the pump for big events. Producers and so on are suddenly behind the mike and getting all sporty. My favourite is Caroline Davidson who sounds like the music mistress in an exclusive girls school, possibly in the nineteen fifties. She always gets the gymnastics. Apparently Australia is "traditionally strong in the pommel". As well as being girt by sea. I can see scope for another verse of the national anthem dealing purely with obscure sports. What rhymes with "smallbore rifle"?

Another highlight was the news from Traralgon that Australia had India on toast at 105-30 at threequarter time in the women's basketball, and sadly the Traralgonians were all reaching for the car keys and storming the exits. I was imagining the Indian women's squad sadly drifting around Traralgon late at night looking for a nice chicken tikka to cheer them up.

And finally, the Cook Islands had Sri Lanka on the ropes in Bendigo at 31-0. Which sport? Look, I just don't think that matters.

Mascots

Is there anything more trivial than a Commonwealth Games Mascot?

Injections and lawn bowls

Marcus had his 4 year old injections today: simultaneous jabs in each thigh. Poor little munket. He went into it very bravely and only got a bit het up when Dr T. was closing in on him with the equipment.

We are a bit narky with the local medical centre for not paying attention to Elf's careful specifications of how we wanted it done. The reception ladies say yes, we'll tell the doctor, oh yes, we'll mention that, no problem. A number of times its been obvious the doctor has no idea we have expressed a wish for this or that.

As a treat when I picked him up from kinder we went up to the bowls club and I showed how to bowl. He really loved it I think, the place as much as the activity. There is certainly something very pleasant about the ambience of a bowls club on a sleepy Wednesday afternoon. They found Marcus some little indoor bowls to use, but it was quite hard for him to hold on to them for long enough to avoid a big kerthunk into the soft turf.

I enjoyed being there with him and it was great to have a little practice myself.

5.55am incident

Michael: MWAAAAaaaaaah!
Dad: What's wrong?
Michael: Mwah! I need two hats!
Dad: That's OK. You can have two hats.
Michael [on his way back to sleep]: Everybody needs two hats.

anagrams

This site makes anagrams of anything. I gave it my name (Christopher Sean Rees) and got back about 1500 suggestions. Some favourites:
Shoe Crash Enterprise
Score Her Parenthesis
Risen Sheep Orchestra [death metal band]
Serene Ship Orchestra [their later folk re-incarnation a la Spinal Tap]

Marcus and Black Bear bridesmaids

Today was the 2006 South Hobart Primary School Sports. Marcus was very excited to be running, and did very well. He ran 4th in the straight 20m sprint then came 2nd in the teddy bear race. The bears waited at the 10m mark to be picked up and carried the rest of the way. I was a little worried because he had one of the larger bears, but he had a clean pick-up and finished strongly. Well done to both Marcus and Black Bear.

Scrapbooks

I have been leafing through a couple of old scrapbooks, while re-installing my entire system (twice). They contain stuff from about 1994 - 1998, when I was living in North Hobart next door to my sister Sal. At the time I was covering my kitchen walls with this stuff. Sal moved out, Fiona the Physio moved in and eventually out and then I moved next door into that flat. The decorations from my old kitchen went into the scrapbooks as I promised myself I would kick my blu-tak habit, and not ruin the paintwork of the new flat.

I will be skewering some of that scrapbook stuff on theTines of Wolfram soon. At the moment none of the pics I upload are getting up.

Michael vocab 3

I'm doing football tricks!

I can eat bananas, and apples, and pears, and apples, and bears, and cowboys, maybe.

The Bowling Shanes 17 d Stop Drop and Roll 8

Our opponents last night have had an aura of invincibility all season. They look great in their matching yellow polo shirts with "Tall", "Stumpy", "Nobby" and "Sanchez" printed on their backs. They bowl with precision. They look fit (except Stumpy). Their aura copped a few dings when they were beaten by The Individuals but they have otherwise been very impressive. This was our first meeting with them in the last roster match of the season.

The Shanes came out firing in awesome unison. We picked up 5 on the first end and already SDR were catching each other's eyes worriedly. After four ends we had won two each but we led 9-2. Dean was bowling confidently and precisely with the new blue Dreamlines© and got us out of tricky spots a few times. Nobby, skip of SDR, is also a fine bowler and this was probably the best man-on-man contest we have seen this season.

At 12-4 Nobby was flailing his towel around wildly and at 16-4 he threw it in. In cold, dark and blustery conditions we shut the game down and bowled just well enough to limit the damage and ensure a win.

Well done Shanes. Next week we go into the finals. The Mervs tried to explain the format and how it works but it seems like its all just a ruse to get a lot of bowlers to attend playing meaningless games and putting maximum money over the bar. Whatever the case, we will be there and going hard on the green.

The land of Rollercoaster

Until recently when Michael saw a map of Australia or the shape, he would say "rollercoaster!" We do not know why.

After being corrected "no, that's Australia, Michael" several times, he now points to a map and says "Australia!" then mutters quietly to himself "rollercoaster".

Michael vocab update 2

Watch cowboys! I will sit here on my cushion. I will turn my cushion over.

Be careful Marcus!

[Dad]: I don't think so.
[Michael]: I don't think so either.

[Mum:] You are so sweet.
[Michael:] Not sweet!

[Dad:] You are so funny.
[Michael:] Not funny!

[Dad:] You are a triceratops.
[Michael:] Not a tops!

The gift

From the site of Tara Dhatu - an international organization dedicated to "empowering and uplifting humanity through the sacred arts." '
Yvonne was a professional dance teacher until an illness gave her the gift of not being able to dance. She became a very successful psychotherapist in Atlanta, Georgia.

Bowling Shanes 12 d Cory's Team 9

We had a gripping struggle last night. We gave it our all; concentration, teamwork, dedication and pure lawn bowls nous focused to a white hot point of excellence. Meanwhile our opponents were on the phone sorting out social arangements for after, who could get some stuff for whom, what to do about Montana's carburettor problem etc etc.

I bowled OK early and dropped off as the night went on. Going into the last end as dusk fell we were four points up. Things looked pretty safe when we held two shots with only Dean's final bowl to come. "Hit the kitty!" urged Cory's Team desperately. Incredibly, Dean did hit the kitty, and we dropped one point instead of picking up two, but held on for our third win on the trot.

On rinks either side of us dramatic scenes were being played out. The Macquarie Maulers, who had been riding high before successive losses to the Shanes squad, blew up again against the Foxy Morons. The FMs were 3 down when they scored 8 shots on an end. The Maulers had five attempts at driving and missed them all, clean as a whistle, despite the massive size of the target. On the other side of us The Bowling Shanes A came back from the grave to pip the Sisters by a shot, in the last-day-of-summer evening gloom.

Two weeks left in the roster and I think the Shanes are the dangerous floaters in the draw. We've got the one-out-one-back on the turn.

And it sounds like Montana's carbie just needed a bit of a clean after all.

A fighting fury

Sometimes I sing the Tigerland footy club song to Michael while I'm changing his nappy. He knows it pretty well, and usually finishes the line if I stop singing. Yesterday he decided to mess with my head a bit.

Oh we're from... Tigerland!
A fighting fury, we're from... Tigerland!
In any weather you can see us with a... Grin!
Risking head and... Chair! (its supposed to be shin).

As he was singing through a dummy I thought he's said something near enough to "shin" so I carried on.

If we're behind then never mind [Michael interrupts]I said chair before!

Two Kings

King Marcus and his buddy King Adrian from next door. Elf had the idea for a party activity to get the kids making crowns. Marcus has teamed his with his new, very large and floppy South Hobart Primary School hat.

Marcus' 4th birthday bash

We had a big party for Marcus yesterday. He will actually turn four tomorrow, but as he is tall for his age and has swallowed a dictionary, we have been thinking of him as four for a while.

We hired the South Hobart Community Centre again. We invited our friends with kids plus some of Marcus' mates from school, and ended up with 22 children to entertain and feed, plus parents. We were keen to avoid competitive games so Elf organised a craft table, and I organised a treasure hunt, and it went off very well. As always there was too much food. I think all the kids had a nice time.

My Mum and Dad made the trip down to be there which was terrific. The boys love having them around, and it was very helpful to have another two pairs of hands to keep the party on the rails.

Some of the attendees are from the Mothers Group Elf was assigned to when Marcus was born, so those boys always have their birthdays around the same time as Marcus. In fact Liam had his party later the same day, so after going home and getting the boys to bed for a rest, we had to haul Marcus out to attend. I am always spared from going to Liam's, so I fell asleep in from of the soccer on TV. Ah, bliss.

Marcus' first day at kinder

Marcus enjoyed his first day. He was very happy when we dropped him off. A soon as we hung his bag on his peg, he started madly flapping his hands at us and bellowing "bye mum, bye dad!"

We havent been able to glean a lot of details, but he said he likes it more than daycare. The class painted paintings and sang songs. Lana, the four-year-old from next door, also had her first day, and Marcus and Lana hung around together I think. Marcus believes he is a superhero at the moment and has got hold of the idea that he has to "protect people". So I think he spent some of his first day "protecting" Lana.

Refreshing honesty

A little promo for the Books and Writing show on Radio National last night was refreshing in its honesty. "Have you got a book in you? Well leave it there, and tune in to Books and Writing. We've got books coming out our ears..."

Bowling Shanes 18 d Sisters of Sincerity 6

The regular Shanes lineup was back together to take on the old sparring partners, SOS. The girls were bowling beautifully early in the evening, and at 6-5 we thought we might be in for a tight finish. We needed a big end or two, and we got them with a couple of fours in a row. The Sisters struggled for confidence from there on and when the bell rang they were keen to get off the green.

I had a good night generally. It was very blustery and it actually seemed to suit my old bowls which have a lot of swing. I threw them way out wide ("gave them a lot of grass") on to the neighbouring green, and with the big bias plus the wind they always came back. I collected the kitty three or four times, but not always to good effect.

I overheard parts of the following conversation at the bar.

"... I said 'you'll be giving back my hundred dollars then'. I said 'that was damned sneaky the way you arranged that'. I said 'you could get fined for that you know. You could get suspended for that'. He's the president down there, he should know better than that. He said 'But I played for Tasmania'. I said to him I said "I don't care if you're the bloody prime Minister..."

What Not To Crochet

Thanks Sally for this tip. Revolting crochet crimes exposed.

Piñatas aplenty

I had the day off yesterday due to a dearth of work. I played tennis with Nick, and triumphed 6-3, 6-2, 6-4. It took a lot out of me and all the rest of the day I just wanted to sleep. I am really unfit.

Later I was sent to Spotlight to buy "sequins, sparkles, little sequin pompoms" for craft activities at Marcus' birthday party. trying to find "little sequin pompoms" at Spotlight is every man's nightmare. I eventually found the stuff I was after. Spotlight is a large two storey shop staffed by mumsy ladies. There are loudspeakers broadcasting the ringing phone every thirty seconds. It is quite a headache-inducing place. I waited in line with my craftsy purchases for ages.

On my way out I noticed that among their wide range of piñatas is one of a woman. Just an ordinary woman. Who would buy a woman piñata? Is it legal to line kids up to beat the crap out of an effigy of a woman? I did have an unworthy thought about buying one and putting it in a Spotlight uniform, but that's all it was, a thought.

My Grumpy Day

For some reason I was in a bad mood most of Saturday. After putting up with it for most of the day Elf invited me to go for a walk or a drive and give her a break. So I went up to North Hobart and had a walk around my old neighbourhood just to have a look. I actually felt like a tourist, and I even had a flowery shirt on.

I parked up the end of Mary Street. It's quite bohemian (for Hobart), with lots of cats and kids. Some of the houses are quite ramshackle, but in a raffish and groovy way. There is a substantial brick house on the corner that has a huge yard full of sheds - each one more tumbledown than the last. There is a great view from this corner, over lower North Hobart, the Glebe, and down the river. The bells at Holy Trinity were ringing.

I walked up through the main drag of Elizabeth Street, and then up Commercial Road where I used to live. Nº 20 is looking quite tidy, and it's now cream and green, rather than white and brown. I walked around the back up Commercial Lane where I used to park the car. The lane used to be very rocky and rough. Its been graded and it's obviously used a lot more now.

At the top of the lane I walked back down Commercial Road. The old entrance of Friends School has been snazzed up quite a bit. For some reason they have nine flagpoles. Nine? Can't think why.

Bought some veg at a new place called Fresco. Tiny aisles, had to keep going round the long way to get to things. Pretentious mum in the queue ahead of me. Her little boy was wailing and she said to the checkout lady "He'll do anything to get attention. He's a real little Stelarc, he'll be hanging himself up by a meathook one day". She name-dropped a performance artist and predicted self-mutilation for her child in one sentence! Neat work.

Bread

Elf reported this from Tuesday.

Michael: I like bread all the time!
Michael (later) Everybody likes bread!
Elf (tiredly): Yes, everybody does like bread.
Michael (brightly): Exactly!

When i did a work experience at an ad agency in 1988, they were putting together a campaign with the slogan "Bread: Because Its Good". This and other experiences that week convinced me that this was easy work that required no deep thought. My boss that week is still my boss now.

Speaking of slogans - don't you find "TRY OUR NEW TOAST" from McDonalds a bit bizarre?

Position description

I was ticking off Marcus for ripping leaves off a young plant in the garden at school.
Me : "I think if you see the gardener you should apologise to him".
Marcus: "He's not a gardener - he's a horticulturist".

Bowling Shanes 22 d Macquarie Maulers 2

The new-look Shanes took to the greens intent on erasing last week's debacle. This week Marcus Murphy, advertising guru and surf hippie, stepped into the Dave Slot, and Dean's mate Richie filled in for Hunter. Richie has just taken delivery of a set of blue Dreamline © bowls and they went very, very nicely.

The Maulers were on top of the ladder before this poor result. I suggested to them after the game that they may have come in unprepared, feeling a bit smug. They denied it.

Richie was best afield for the Shanes, but the Peter Garrett Medal for Handy Newcomers definitely goes to Marcus. He had nailed the caper thoroughly by the sixth end and contributed four or five of our points. I contributed only one or two, and my position might come under pressure with the return of the full Shanes squad to the greens.

Thirst for knowledge

Marcus explained to me the reason for his incredible thirst for knowledge yesterday. We were looking at a giant section of log in the park at Campbell Town. He asked me lots and lots of questions, most of which I couldn't answer. The explanatory sign talked a lot about the old days of logging but had very little to say about this particular big log. After a round of "i don't know"s and "sorry, it doesn't say"s Marcus said "Do you know why I want to get everything right? Because I want to be like a grown up".

The rest of the car ride home took about two hours, and it was an almost uninterrupted stream of probing questions from Marcus. Could we dig up our late cat Claude from the back yard and look at the bones? When I grow up can I shoot a gun? Where was I before I was born? When you are his captive audience he is determined to make every minute count. By the time we arrived home I felt like I had had my brain scrubbed vigorously with a loofah.

Wallabies

I saw two wallabies on my way to work this morning. I have no smart-arse comment to make or analysis to draw upon. I wonder if they eat blackberries?

Just got in from the coast

It always sounds nice to casually mention you have "just got back from the coast" - ideally said with a bit of a tired, windswept air, maybe while pushing your sunnies up on your head. Of course, as Tasmania is an island everyone has just got back from the coast.

We are just back from Turners Beach on the northwest coast, staying at Mum and Dads for a few days. We had no plans for the long weekend so on Saturday morning we decided to drive up there after lunch. We are lucky the boys are the right age for such spontaneity. In a few years we won't be able to go as Marcus will miss lacrosse and Michael will miss an accordion lesson, or something.

It was very relaxing up there. We had one outing, to the Imaginarium in Devonport. Its like a mini version of the Science and Technology centre in Canberra that the boys liked so much. They were very happy to scamp about the Imaginarium for something like two hours, and the grown-ups found it quite interesting too.

Dad and I had a kick of the footy in the yard. He's turning seventy this year, so he's doing pretty well to still execute a fair drop punt. Mum is also looking very very well, but declined to make any leads for the football. There is lots of room inside and out at Mum and Dad's, and the boys seem to unfurl when we are there.

Big news was that the folks have decided to move southwards. Jacki and her family are is moving to Sydney (Tim and Sam are there already). Mum and Dad have decided to be closer to us and Sally. It will be marvellous to have them nearer, particularly for the boys. They could hang out with grandparents without anyone needing to drive five hours each way.

I am a little sad that our link with the north-west coast will be broken when they move. Since they moved east from Burnie I have hardly been there at all, though I am still very fond of the place. Once Mum and Dad are even closer, will I ever drive all the way up there again?

Foxy Morons 15 d Shanes 5

Dean was sick of being skip, so Muggins got the job. Being skip means you bowl last, and if you are up against quality opposition like the Morons, it's a tough gig. My first drive (where you hurl it down the green really hard to try to blow away your opponents' good position) was a failure. My second drive was just the same. My third was a little better but still sailed though without achieving anything. My last go was more of a firm draw than a drive and it did the trick.

Its lonely being a skip. Especially when you lose.

My New Blog

Tines of Wolfram is now open for business. Its where I will put stuff I make for work, stuff I make for fun, stuff I scan, and stuff I pinch from elsewhere on the www. It's my scrapbook.

The pics will often be pretty big, but the blog page shows a smaller preview so you can browse it without needing broadband. Let me know what you think of my taste in stuff.

Toot Wins A Gold Trophy In The Sideburns category

Mad props to Matthew K for putting me onto the World Beard Championships. The link above takes you to the blog of Beard Team USA.

Berries, being dead, seafood.

We went to the berry farm again, as it was so good last time. This month its strawberries, strawberries, strawberries. We came home with about $20 worth. Of course - doesn't everyone buy twenty bucks worth of strawberries at a time? Needless to say we've been eating little else since. Elf made a beaut strawberry flan last night - which I can officially confirm was flan-tastic. Yukkity yuk.

On the way to lunch at the Clarence pub Marcus was blabbing uncontrollably. He was told to be quiet for ten minutes. Ten minutes later -
Marcus: "I have done what you told me, can I talk now?"
Me: "Sure".
Marcus: "Blip, blippp, bloppy blip, bluuuuuuurhh...." etc
Me: "Gee that was worth waiting for"
[about ten seconds later]
Marcus: "When you die, I think the world doesn't exist any more".

From baby blather to sophisticated eschatological reasoning in the blink of an eye. Lunch at the pub was very pleasant. I don't know why a lovely seaside pub overlooking a bay full of yachts needs to adopt a "nautical theme" but they have. There is a large mosaic of a compass rose on the floor of the deck where we sat. Michael jumped around it in a circle like a demented potoroo, saying "W! S! E!" (Someone was sitting on the N). I had a big bowl of perfect calimari with aioli. Life is pretty good.

Dream

I was assistant manager of a Chickenfeed-style discount store. Who was the manager? Jimi Hendrix. I was trying to arrange a display of pens and pencils and having trouble. Tried to get his attention in a discrete and respectful way. "Jimi? Jimi? Uh....ah...oh.....ah....JIMI?" Then some Chinese dignataries arrived.

Other favourite words

I'm avoiding work. I am supposed to design an attractive poster for the 400th anniversary of the first mapping of Australia, by Janzoon in 1606. I love maps, should be a great job. But - the client has about 20,000 words of copy to fit on there.
So - stuff work, lets think of favourite words!

Arbitrate
Bassoon
Creosote
Defenestrate, Duumvirate,Dulcimer
Erg
Ferrous
Gelatinous
Hierarch, Heliotrope
Icthyosaur
Jamb
Kenaf
Lubritorium
Moot
Neap
Obstreporous, Obviate
Prune
Quell
Rostrum
Snib
Teacup
Ursine
Vulpine
Whelk
X - I do not like any of words that start with X - it annoys me that they could just use a Z.
Yonder
Zoon ( and of course Zoa, meaning plural of Zoon)

Favourite Words

My very favourite is actually desafortunadamente, spanish for "unfortunately".

My favourite English word is probably defenestrate.

Our block

OK, I've decided Cascade Rd is now to be referred to at all times as "the block". In fact, I've just been doing a bit of work on the block in my time-off-in-lieu and am now covered in scratches and smelling of Dettol.

I propose to refer to the current house as "the shed". Obviously the shed is useful for keeping stuff in, and it keeps the rain off, but when it comes time to take it down to make room for The New House it will be no big deal. Its just a shed, right?

And herewith an artist's impression (this was done by Alberto Giacometti in 1933) of The New House. Down by the letterbox there is an A3 size council notice inviting ridicule or just comments from passers-by. I wonder if applicants for planning approval are allowed to sticky-tape little pictures like this to the notice, or write "its going to be really really nice" on it.



I have been intending to ask someone at the council about these notices. A house in Liverpool Cres has one "displayed" - I happened to see it when I bent down to tie my boots. The best way to describe its deployment is that it has been put in a deep hole. God knows what it says. Fat chance of anyone reading it and raising an objection, unless they fancy a bit of abseiling. I wonder if the owner might work for a well-known local government organisation.

Helmets for bowlers

Marcus asked this morning - why do cricket batsmen wear helmets, but bowlers don't? What if the batsman hit the ball back at the bowler's head really hard? It's a good point. We explained that the bowler had a variety of options (duck, catch) and that it didn't happen very often anyway. But close-in fielders and even wicketkeepers sometime wore helmets. He was happy with this.

Michael always wakes before Marcus. Elf goes for a walk every morning, and she usually plonks him in bed next to me for a while. He lies there in amongst the huge pillows and looks straight up at the ceiling. This morning he said, while gazing upwards, "I can see a frog, in the water". I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly, so I said "Frogs say nedeep, nedeep". He replied "no, no, no, no, no - ribbit ribbit".

Alas - who can help me manage my grain?

"Additional modules allow GMS Systems to interface with electronic scales and moisture meters". Warning - this is the dullest link I ever lunk.

The Bowling Shanes 16, The Bowling Shanes "A" 5

It finally happened, the Shanes came face to face with our junior spin-off team. They have been struggling, to be honest, but they put up a good performance against us.

Dave bowled well, possibly best on ground for the Shanes. His bowls this week had "giant rabbits" on them. Skip of the "A"s Paul "Robbo" Roberts is welding his charges into a tight focussed bowling unit. But they never managed to pick up the multiple points that you need if you're going to win a match. Promising tyros with their best bowls ahead of them.

We topped off the night by winning the draw for a carton of Cascade Green. Wha-hey.

Patrick Grieve

He has a new show on at Dick Bett's. Click on his name to see them up big. All images © Vincent Grieve.

Aboard the Ida Bay Railway

Tiny railway

We went on the little 2' gauge Ida Bay Railway on Saturday. Its a couple of hours south of Hobart - yes, you can drive south of Hobart. It takes 40 minutes to go 7km each way, through very dense bush. There were bobbly plants with about a dozen long stalks with black spherical bobbles on them - must find out what they are. The carriage was open, with six bench seats, and the engine was a tiny thing with an ordinary car engine inside it. The boys loved the whole thing. At the end of the line is Deep Hole, actually a lovely white beach. We scamped about there for twenty minutes then travelled back again.

There was once a town at Ida Bay, of which little rmains now. The cemetery survives, and the train stopped there for a few minutes. This set Marcus off on another series of penetrating questions about death and dying. We have given him the impression that dead people "look like they're sleeping". He wanted to dig up the dead people to have a look at them. I said there were probably just bones down there. "Why?" At this point Elf stepped in to head off a chat about decomposition.

Later Marcus asked "Can we find a dead person?" I said "No, I told you we can't dig up dead people". "No, can we find someone who has just died and bury them?"

The lady who runs the railway sported a fine moustache. I asked her daughter the way to the toilet. "Just follow the train tracks back into into the bush, and you'll find it behind a big tree".

Farewell Will, au revoir Marta

We had a big lunch at work on Friday to say thanks and bye to two colleagues. Will was on work placement with us for a year and now has to go back to Melbourne to complete his studies. Marta, on the other hand, is moving to Paris with her husband who has been offered a job there. Best wishes to you both - as you are no longer workmates you are invited to read the blog! You'll be disappointed to see work doesnt actually rate a mention all that often.

Cascade Rd has been selectively logged

This is not some fancy photo retouching job. Men with axes have started turning our home into a building block.

Tas Fact #01

The first Englishman to sight Tasmania was Capt Tobias Furneaux, one of Capt Cook's offsiders, in 1772. They were circumnavigating Antarctica and he was blown off course.

Australia Day

Australia is really just a series of beaches, with a milk bar over the road and then some houses and stuff that eventually peter out some time before you get to Uluru.

We went to the beach for Australia Day. Once again Nick and Anna and Lily showed us how to do it. Nick dug a large pit in the sand, lined it with a sheet of plastic, and presto - a safe paddling pool right next to the family shade-tent. I missed my chance to actually swim as Marcus had to go to the toilet at that point, and refused to wee in the sea. So I watched Michael from a vantage point on land while Marcus and Elf trekked up to the toilet block - then it was time to pack up.

Marcus made up a tune (played on the special punch-balloon) called "Bellow Hips". He explained after playing it that it was about a farmer who had lost his sheep.

Bowling Shanes 23 d Kitties 2

Hunter was on fire. On nearly every end I bowled pretty poorly, Hunter got us back into it and then all Dean had to do was steer his bowls wide to avoid mucking it all up. The Kitties were a bit unlucky, the score flattered us.

It was Superhero night - one person in each team had to dress as a superhero. Many teams decided to all get into tights and capes. Jacinta won first prize for her "Superbowl" costume - she was dressed as an actual lawn bowl.

Quote of the night "Who is the guy in the blonde wig with the sword supposed to be?".

The unrelocatable house

A house relocation expert who prefers to remain anonymous says our house can't be moved.

A) Nowhere to park the crane; and
B) Lath and plaster needs so much patching at the end its not worth it.

He doesn't really prefer to remain anonymous, I just can't remember his name.

So - demolition it is.

Michael turns two

Its Michael's birthday today - the 2nd anniversary of that wonderful but very scary day when he was born and we were told he needed an immediate heart operation. He's a marvellous little boy and we are so, so glad to have him. I'll be taking him (and Dog no doubt) back to the Royal Childrens for a checkup at the end of March, but all his signs have been good so far.

We had a party for him at Kingston Beach on Sunday morning. It was a very relaxed gathering. We got nibbles from Citrus Moon and Elf iced a supermarket butter cake, so we certainly didnt knock ourselves out with catering, yet everyone was well fed and happy. There was good cloud cover for most of the morning to keep the heat at bay - it got to the high thirties in the afternoon.

Charles, Emma and baby Caoillain (I have to check the spelling every time) from Melbourne were there, on their way around southern Tas on holiday. It was Emma's 30th birthday on Friday and Charles propsed to her on top of Mt Wellington. They came to dinner on Friday and then we saw them again on Monday night. In between they saw more of Tasmania than I ever have - they are tourists par excellence.

Yesterday I heard from John also from Melbourne, (one of the regular readers of this blog) that he proposed to his partner Carmen last week in Tasmania. There must be some kind of migratory mating thing going on. Big good-on-yas to Emma, Charles, Carmen and John.

Big Noses Open Doors

I wrote a story titled this once about three gardeners having their lunch break. The story went nowhere but it was a great title wasnt it?

Impending dadness - from 4 years ago

17.01.02  Week 32
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"If the baby was born now it would open its eyes and look out at the world (except it can't focus on much at this stage and would look endearingly crosseyed" - Kaz Cooke at week 32
We had our first ante-natal class last night. It wasnt too bad, but two and a half hours is a long time to spend sitting on the floor. Louise showed us a muddy 3rd generation video of a lady called Uta having a baby, with her hairy unclothed husband drifting into view now and then. We handed round a knitted placenta. Unfortunately the knitted umbilical cord had fallen off. At one stage Louise demonstrated the opening of the cervix with a life size pelvis, then put it down and absent mindedly kicked it across the room. Instant coffee and beanbags were very much in the vanguard. The boys nervously sat in a circle and tried to think of reasons why we will make good support persons, while the girls listed what they wanted from their support person. We had a midwife visit today as well to check on Singleton's position - he's still in breech. Apparently his feet are either side of his head, flexible little bugger. If he doesnt turn over to be head down sometime in the next 4 weeks, we'll make an appointment for a caesarean delivery, 2 or 3 weeks early, maybe the last week of February. There are lots of things they suggest to encourage turning - Singleton responds to light at this stage, so we are trying to lead him downwards with a torch. That is not even in the top ten of silliest suggestions. Handstands in the pool, massage and stern instructions through the tummy are other things we're trying. Also this week we bought a 2nd hand Emmaljunga pram and big bunch o' nappies, bunny rugs and gro suits. Bathroom now looking civilised, with bath and handbasin clad with pine panelling cannibalised from the front room. Its about 85% finished I'd say. Spare room has been paint-stripped within an inch of its life, and the windows now open. Yay.

Individuals lots d Bowling Shanes not many

I was too busy last week to post a match report on the bowls. And also we were flogged so I didnt have the motivation. It was quite windy and definitely the trickiest conditions I have bowled in. We were up against a team of three more experienced than us, and they bowled well as a team. I find it really hard to bowl tactically as I can't work out whose bowls are whose. From the far end it can be hard to tell if that bowl near the jack has the little doggies or the little sailing ships on it.

We are going into the room of mirrors for a good hard look at ourselves this week in the hope of a better outcome to the process.