I have come back after dinner to work until past midnight for the last three nights. The last two nights have also featured Marcus waking up and coming out into the hall to ask disjointed half-awake questions, loudly.
I am officially bleary. I am altering english-langauge annotations and subtitles on each of about 120 little animations into four new languages (translations supplied by SBS). This is for a DVD explaining the rules for filming and photographing at Uluru. There are lots of little underlines on particular letters of the Pitjantjatjara words - you have to remember which T to underline in Kata Tjuta and so on.
Weary, bleary and fuddled.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Bowling Shanes 22 d Four Cs 6
The Shanes kicked off the new lawn bowls season with a dominant performance. We eased up towards the end as muscles tightened up and thoughts turned to celebratory beers in the clubhouse. Four Cs are very nice 40-something ladies with a few tatts but no proven criminal connections. They displayed good manners, never sledging until after their opponent had delivered his bowl. Their skip was Sharon and their secret weapon was Bev.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Baling from pool to pool
We went to a free Fun Day in St David's Park today, cruised around that for about 3 hours then put in another hour or so at a Kite Festival at the Regatta Grounds. The RG is a terrific place - it is quite breezy, with a lovely elevated view over the river and the Port of Hobart. I always come away from there feeling refreshed. It was a great day for kites, and the kites responded well, I thought. There were little easy-to-fly kites for sale for just $3, so the sky was thick with big and small snippets of luridly coloured nylon. There was also a teenage rock band belting out covers and the occasional shoe-gazing original. Marcus and I danced to the best of our ability. The main difference is that I don't have the front to call out "do you like my moves?" like he does. Later Michael joined us and pogo'd enthusiastically to Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand.
Prior to that was the Fun Day. There was a Petting Zoo. I prefer to call friendly manual contact with animals "patting" but no-one ever seems to call them Patting Zoos. "Petting" is a word I associate with those books for parents of teenagers about helping them deal with "changes" in their bodies.
I digress. There were alpacas, piglets, fancy fowl, horses, geese who had been infiltrated by a duck, lovely cows, kittens (to give away) and I believe also a mule. The piglets stampeded through their water trough, soaking Michael and I. We agreed this was well worthwile.
There were some children's artistes called the Ticklish Allsorts who did a song about some dancing pants. Marcus thought this was very very good, and demanded to know the Allsorts' names. I didn't know, but Marcus was confident the computer would. I later saw one of the Allsorts up close, who had a head like a robber's dog, but looks aren't everything in live entertainment.
We had neighbours over to swim in our new pool this afternoon. The new pool actually arrived just before the neighbours. Elf noticed (after filling it) that our old one was leaking chronically, so popped down the shops, bought a new one and blew it up. We then baled with buckets. Marcus jumped about in the old one until it was empty then did an amphibious wriggle into the new one. Sharon and Lana (4) came over from town-side and Caron, Mark, Cameron (6) and Adrian (4) from mountain-side. We havent been able to get them together before so it was nice to all natter, get splashed, have a few G &Ts and be neighbourly.
They are very nice folks on both sides, with nice kids of similar age to ours, and that's a big factor in our crazy plan to knock down and rebuild here rather than move. Which reminds me - we met with the Council's heritagey people on Friday and negotiated a simple alteration to the front of the new house that keeps them happy. We will set back one side of the upper storey a tiny bit and put a dear little roofette on the projecting lower storey. Now we are going to start inspecting places to rent while our old house is razed and our new house is raised.
Prior to that was the Fun Day. There was a Petting Zoo. I prefer to call friendly manual contact with animals "patting" but no-one ever seems to call them Patting Zoos. "Petting" is a word I associate with those books for parents of teenagers about helping them deal with "changes" in their bodies.
I digress. There were alpacas, piglets, fancy fowl, horses, geese who had been infiltrated by a duck, lovely cows, kittens (to give away) and I believe also a mule. The piglets stampeded through their water trough, soaking Michael and I. We agreed this was well worthwile.
There were some children's artistes called the Ticklish Allsorts who did a song about some dancing pants. Marcus thought this was very very good, and demanded to know the Allsorts' names. I didn't know, but Marcus was confident the computer would. I later saw one of the Allsorts up close, who had a head like a robber's dog, but looks aren't everything in live entertainment.
We had neighbours over to swim in our new pool this afternoon. The new pool actually arrived just before the neighbours. Elf noticed (after filling it) that our old one was leaking chronically, so popped down the shops, bought a new one and blew it up. We then baled with buckets. Marcus jumped about in the old one until it was empty then did an amphibious wriggle into the new one. Sharon and Lana (4) came over from town-side and Caron, Mark, Cameron (6) and Adrian (4) from mountain-side. We havent been able to get them together before so it was nice to all natter, get splashed, have a few G &Ts and be neighbourly.
They are very nice folks on both sides, with nice kids of similar age to ours, and that's a big factor in our crazy plan to knock down and rebuild here rather than move. Which reminds me - we met with the Council's heritagey people on Friday and negotiated a simple alteration to the front of the new house that keeps them happy. We will set back one side of the upper storey a tiny bit and put a dear little roofette on the projecting lower storey. Now we are going to start inspecting places to rent while our old house is razed and our new house is raised.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Beach
We accepted an invitation to the beach, Nick and Anna style. Or really just Anna style. Nick is conscripted to attend the beach while Anna is an enthusiast. Elf is also not a beach natural while I have always been fond of a simple swim in the sea.
Anna's family have a shack (called The Cottage) at Dodges Ferry (which is called Bally Park by them for some reason). Anna's sister Rosie, husband Stuart and two kids (why do we ALL have 2 kids?) were along as well. They are hardened beach people.
We however are relative amateurs at Family Beach. I have done a lot of Solo Beach but there is a lot more to consider and plan for with yer nappies, yer hole in the ozone layer, yer picky eaters who pull their sandwiches apart and drop all fillings in the sand etc etc. Not to mention the omnipresent danger of drowning. As Elf said while we were trying to pack up to go home "Tell me again - why do people go to the beach?"
But I had fun, the kids had a ball and Elf did most of the hard work but didn't complain. Marcus discovered "surfing" - lying on a boogie board while someone else works up a sweat towing you. Michael nuded about - definitely the best bot on the beach. I hope we will get better at it all and next time Elf can read one of her wistful-but-confident books while I do the parenting.
The Bergers' cottage is shaded by two immense pine trees. Anna's parents have cordoned off half of their large block and put it up for sale, and Anna told me they need to sell the land to pay for the "management" of the pine trees. An arborist gave them a quote of $20,000 (or it might have been $40,000) to make them safe - at present they are liable to drop a big branch on a kiddie any time.
Anna's family have a shack (called The Cottage) at Dodges Ferry (which is called Bally Park by them for some reason). Anna's sister Rosie, husband Stuart and two kids (why do we ALL have 2 kids?) were along as well. They are hardened beach people.
We however are relative amateurs at Family Beach. I have done a lot of Solo Beach but there is a lot more to consider and plan for with yer nappies, yer hole in the ozone layer, yer picky eaters who pull their sandwiches apart and drop all fillings in the sand etc etc. Not to mention the omnipresent danger of drowning. As Elf said while we were trying to pack up to go home "Tell me again - why do people go to the beach?"
But I had fun, the kids had a ball and Elf did most of the hard work but didn't complain. Marcus discovered "surfing" - lying on a boogie board while someone else works up a sweat towing you. Michael nuded about - definitely the best bot on the beach. I hope we will get better at it all and next time Elf can read one of her wistful-but-confident books while I do the parenting.
The Bergers' cottage is shaded by two immense pine trees. Anna's parents have cordoned off half of their large block and put it up for sale, and Anna told me they need to sell the land to pay for the "management" of the pine trees. An arborist gave them a quote of $20,000 (or it might have been $40,000) to make them safe - at present they are liable to drop a big branch on a kiddie any time.
Friday, January 06, 2006
See Jeff's Show! Please!
I saw Jeff's show Cancelled by Popular Demand last night. It is slightly tightened up from last year but fundamentally the same show. All Jeff's props broke, fell over or stuck to each other last night but he overcame setbacks manfully. It is a great show, everyone within cooee of Hobart should get down to the Peacock Theatre Tues - Sat nights at 8 or Sundays at 4. Book through www.tso.com.au or tickets at the door.
In other news - while driving in the car Marcus raised the subject of Mexico. Its a nation I have never visited but dear to my heart all the same. Its got jungles, I raved. Deserts. Indians. Snowy mountains. "Cheese" contributed Michael.
Circumstantial evidence points to Michael entering the Terrible Twos a few weeks early. He 's generally still charming but prone to increasing bouts of NO! DON'T WANT IT! and MICHAEL'S!
In other news - while driving in the car Marcus raised the subject of Mexico. Its a nation I have never visited but dear to my heart all the same. Its got jungles, I raved. Deserts. Indians. Snowy mountains. "Cheese" contributed Michael.
Circumstantial evidence points to Michael entering the Terrible Twos a few weeks early. He 's generally still charming but prone to increasing bouts of NO! DON'T WANT IT! and MICHAEL'S!
Bad news - Christmas is up 1%
On the news last night a spokesman for Australian retailers announced that Christmas spending was up 1% on last year. They had been hoping for 3%. The figures are just in, and there is a degree of variance with some up and some down. The spokesman decribed the figures as "schizophrenic" and said gloomily "it may take some time to determine who has been hardest hit by this".
I hope someone is starting a whip-round for retailers who have been gutted by this 1% rise.
I hope someone is starting a whip-round for retailers who have been gutted by this 1% rise.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
By boat to the inland
Speaking of Canberra, that is where we journeyed for Christmas, following a star we had seen in the east. Well, actually we went there because that's where Elf's mum and dad and sister are. Elf's sister is Imp - if I havent talked here about the Fullagar family's thing for names its probably too late to start now. This Christmas they were joined by Fred and Chonk, Elf's brothers who live in Sweden and Switzerland respectively, and also Chonk's Swiss-Texan girlfirend Irma.
As the brothers can't come home very often we made a point of being there too, to eat their chocolates and festoon them with clinging and giggling nephews while we read books and generally lay about.
We caught the ferry Spirit of Tasmania III to Sydney. It was very good, a better ship and more enjoyable route than the Devonport - Melbourne boats. The food is free and excellent quality. It takes 22 hours, leaving Devonport at about 5pm and putting into Sydney at about 3pm. The last few hours, where you steam up the NSW South Coast, through the heads and into Sydney Harbour is just magnificent. On Spirit III punters are allowed on the top deck, and everyone was up there crowding the rail as we went under the Harbour Bridge. That was very exciting, one of my great travel experience to tell the truth. Unlike my visits to other tourism icons this time I had to keep an eye on two freewheeling small boys. We were the biggest thing in the harbour and every other craft was honking and waving enthusiastically. As we cruised past the Opera House I walked bow-to-stern down the vacant middle of the deck and kept abreast of it - which felt very wierd.
Next we drove off the boat (Elf in charge) and launched ourselves into Sydney traffic. They have a neat system for testing new drivers - the lane that leads from the ferry wharf onto the Harbour Bridge merges away on both sides simultaneously, coming to a sharp point. If you survive this you are presumably then qualified to drive off into New South Wales. We found Aunty Finty and her family in Lindfield and had a pleasant visit with them. Finty insisted we sit in front of a huge electric fan.
Then we tried to find our way out of Sydney. Finty wrote explicit instructions. I misread them and we got very close to the northern beaches before I lost patience with the instructions and told Elf to turn around. As we headed back the way we had come for twenty minutes it gradually dawned on me that the error was all mine. We finally found an exit and trundled the 2 1/2 hours to Canberra, getting in about 11pm.
We stayed four days in Canberra, all very hot. The first was 37° but it moderated later. The boys were delighted with their gifts and seemed to enjoy the Whole Christmas Thing. We gave Marcus a red remote-control Mini, and Michael a red ukelele. I missed the moment of opening the uke but apparently Michael was totally, wordlessly thrilled. I was there by the time he started bellowing "GUITAR!!!!!". It didnt leave his side for days. The Mini careered around the loungeroom through piles of wrapping paper, clipping ankles and smacking pleasingly into furniture. When we took it to an empty carpark early on Boxing Day it screamed in wide circles while Marcus pelted after it, too excited to actually use the controls in his hand.
Irma, Chonk and Fred spent lots of time with the boys. Fred is always a big hit. He is a scientist, who still has all the interesting equipment from his scientific youth hanging around the house in Canberra. Marcus was fascinated by his magnets, electric components, paper planes and crystals. We met Irma for the first time and she made a very good impression on us all. The boys loved her to bits, and she spent a lot of time with them.
Elf's mum Felicity has several hundred jars of jam and marmalade around the house. My heart went out to her when I realised that she spent the hottest part of the 37° day sitting at a shadeless market stall and she sold not a single jar. I would like to help her market her product a bit better, if I can think of ways to do it without too much of a jump in her costs.
Elf's dad Bill has new lenses in his eyes and is seeing very well. He's not walking too well though and the garden is starting to get away from him. He has sensibly consigned a large part of it to wilderness is concentrating on a few rows of peas. Sulphur-crested cockatoos are everywhere, and Bill loathes them. He's an old salt living a long way inland, and now he has retired I wonder how long he will stand for the heat and cockatoos. He lent me a wonderful book about Paraguay from which I will blog snippets.
We made regular visits to Imp and Ed's. The boys play very well with their cousins Karri and Miah, and on one visit there was even cricket with the cousins' cousins. Imp catered for Christmas dinner and it was superb. The other big attraction at their place was the pool. Marcus overcame his worries and stood in the shallow end in water up to his chest. Since we have been home we have been to the Big Pool and he has continued to stretch his boundaries, which is great.
Now we settle into a gruelling round of birthdays. 11 days until Elf, then 8 days until Michael, then 34 days until Marcus.
As the brothers can't come home very often we made a point of being there too, to eat their chocolates and festoon them with clinging and giggling nephews while we read books and generally lay about.
We caught the ferry Spirit of Tasmania III to Sydney. It was very good, a better ship and more enjoyable route than the Devonport - Melbourne boats. The food is free and excellent quality. It takes 22 hours, leaving Devonport at about 5pm and putting into Sydney at about 3pm. The last few hours, where you steam up the NSW South Coast, through the heads and into Sydney Harbour is just magnificent. On Spirit III punters are allowed on the top deck, and everyone was up there crowding the rail as we went under the Harbour Bridge. That was very exciting, one of my great travel experience to tell the truth. Unlike my visits to other tourism icons this time I had to keep an eye on two freewheeling small boys. We were the biggest thing in the harbour and every other craft was honking and waving enthusiastically. As we cruised past the Opera House I walked bow-to-stern down the vacant middle of the deck and kept abreast of it - which felt very wierd.
Next we drove off the boat (Elf in charge) and launched ourselves into Sydney traffic. They have a neat system for testing new drivers - the lane that leads from the ferry wharf onto the Harbour Bridge merges away on both sides simultaneously, coming to a sharp point. If you survive this you are presumably then qualified to drive off into New South Wales. We found Aunty Finty and her family in Lindfield and had a pleasant visit with them. Finty insisted we sit in front of a huge electric fan.
Then we tried to find our way out of Sydney. Finty wrote explicit instructions. I misread them and we got very close to the northern beaches before I lost patience with the instructions and told Elf to turn around. As we headed back the way we had come for twenty minutes it gradually dawned on me that the error was all mine. We finally found an exit and trundled the 2 1/2 hours to Canberra, getting in about 11pm.
We stayed four days in Canberra, all very hot. The first was 37° but it moderated later. The boys were delighted with their gifts and seemed to enjoy the Whole Christmas Thing. We gave Marcus a red remote-control Mini, and Michael a red ukelele. I missed the moment of opening the uke but apparently Michael was totally, wordlessly thrilled. I was there by the time he started bellowing "GUITAR!!!!!". It didnt leave his side for days. The Mini careered around the loungeroom through piles of wrapping paper, clipping ankles and smacking pleasingly into furniture. When we took it to an empty carpark early on Boxing Day it screamed in wide circles while Marcus pelted after it, too excited to actually use the controls in his hand.
Irma, Chonk and Fred spent lots of time with the boys. Fred is always a big hit. He is a scientist, who still has all the interesting equipment from his scientific youth hanging around the house in Canberra. Marcus was fascinated by his magnets, electric components, paper planes and crystals. We met Irma for the first time and she made a very good impression on us all. The boys loved her to bits, and she spent a lot of time with them.
Elf's mum Felicity has several hundred jars of jam and marmalade around the house. My heart went out to her when I realised that she spent the hottest part of the 37° day sitting at a shadeless market stall and she sold not a single jar. I would like to help her market her product a bit better, if I can think of ways to do it without too much of a jump in her costs.
Elf's dad Bill has new lenses in his eyes and is seeing very well. He's not walking too well though and the garden is starting to get away from him. He has sensibly consigned a large part of it to wilderness is concentrating on a few rows of peas. Sulphur-crested cockatoos are everywhere, and Bill loathes them. He's an old salt living a long way inland, and now he has retired I wonder how long he will stand for the heat and cockatoos. He lent me a wonderful book about Paraguay from which I will blog snippets.
We made regular visits to Imp and Ed's. The boys play very well with their cousins Karri and Miah, and on one visit there was even cricket with the cousins' cousins. Imp catered for Christmas dinner and it was superb. The other big attraction at their place was the pool. Marcus overcame his worries and stood in the shallow end in water up to his chest. Since we have been home we have been to the Big Pool and he has continued to stretch his boundaries, which is great.
Now we settle into a gruelling round of birthdays. 11 days until Elf, then 8 days until Michael, then 34 days until Marcus.
Has anyone seen the Hindenburg Line?
I was back at work today, and it was just as though I'd never left. Before Christmas a historian from the Department in Canberra flew down to sit by my side and watch as I pushed and nudged WW1 front lines about on maps until he was satisfied with their accuracy. Today it became clear I had three towns in the wrong places, and some (but not all) of my lines needed to go just an umph north and a wheeze west. We had one map too many, with the Germans actually arriving before they had set off. It also appears that everyone who has ever drawn a map with the "HIndenburg LIne" on it, has put it wherever they damn well please. We have followed this convention.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Merry C and Happy NY
This morning I received a nice invitation to buy Viagra online, from Demographic F. Cellophane.
This will be my last blog of the year. I have two days and nights of solid work ahead then we drive to Devonport, get on a boat to Sydney, get off and drive to Canberra, rejoice in the birth of the Messiah, drive to Melbourne, get on a boat to Devonport and drive home.
So I hope you will all have a nice break from routine, somewhere you like with people you like, and don't eat too much. Go for a walk and when you get back there will still be plenty to pick at, that's my advice.
Cheers.
This will be my last blog of the year. I have two days and nights of solid work ahead then we drive to Devonport, get on a boat to Sydney, get off and drive to Canberra, rejoice in the birth of the Messiah, drive to Melbourne, get on a boat to Devonport and drive home.
So I hope you will all have a nice break from routine, somewhere you like with people you like, and don't eat too much. Go for a walk and when you get back there will still be plenty to pick at, that's my advice.
Cheers.
Cheese camera
Marcus was crafting this morning. I gave him a tray out of a chocloate box and a few other things. He taped the tray to a sheet of paper, held it in front of his face and said "Look - its a cheese camera". Then he explained it wasn't really a camera. it was actually for hiding behind so people can't see you. He said offhandedly "I don't know why people call them cheese cameras".
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Shanes 16 d Sisters of Sincerity 15
The Shanes' finest hour. A tight tussle with the old enemy. Blown open when a lucky shot knocked the jack into an off-target clump of Sisters' bowls, suddenly they were six up. Backs to the wall. Plucky resistance. Spirit of Anzac all round. Five down when the bell rang for last end. Best hope to salvage some pride and cut the margin.
All Shanes stood up under pressure. Your correspondent, Hunter, Dave - we all delivered good solid shots, nothing amazing though. Suddenly we were holding 4 bowls and only needed to improve a tad to tie. The Sisters' no 3 put her last bowl in the gutter - choked. We held five - good enough to tie.
Our skip stepped up and got his bias wrong. As his bowl scooted at 90° to the intended course the Shanes each retreated into our inner worlds of calm in our own way. Hunter smoked furiously.
Their steely skip Geraldine had defused bombs of this sort all night and I expected she would steer them home. Her first attempt was a cross between a draw and a drive and missed the jack by a whisker. Our skip got back on the horse, set his jaw and delivered a quality bowl that gave us six, good enough to win if Geraldine failed to demolish the whole shebang with her final bowl.
Time stood still. All other matches were over and the clubhouse was full of people waiting. Geraldine gave it her best shot but under pressure her bowl went wide, failed to connect with even one of ours so the six points stood. We had snatched V from the Js of D.
Once again, bowls, Australian Lawn Bowls, was the real winner.
All Shanes stood up under pressure. Your correspondent, Hunter, Dave - we all delivered good solid shots, nothing amazing though. Suddenly we were holding 4 bowls and only needed to improve a tad to tie. The Sisters' no 3 put her last bowl in the gutter - choked. We held five - good enough to tie.
Our skip stepped up and got his bias wrong. As his bowl scooted at 90° to the intended course the Shanes each retreated into our inner worlds of calm in our own way. Hunter smoked furiously.
Their steely skip Geraldine had defused bombs of this sort all night and I expected she would steer them home. Her first attempt was a cross between a draw and a drive and missed the jack by a whisker. Our skip got back on the horse, set his jaw and delivered a quality bowl that gave us six, good enough to win if Geraldine failed to demolish the whole shebang with her final bowl.
Time stood still. All other matches were over and the clubhouse was full of people waiting. Geraldine gave it her best shot but under pressure her bowl went wide, failed to connect with even one of ours so the six points stood. We had snatched V from the Js of D.
Once again, bowls, Australian Lawn Bowls, was the real winner.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Bogged blog
Blog bogging down presently due pressure of work. Will save time leaving out prepositions. Sounds like Superman vis a vis kryptonite. Must finish Western Front book, CD-ROM before Christmas. Otherwise family wave to me bye bye from boat to Sydney.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Some goats, some raspberries and a ukelele
We visited our good friend, neighbour and goat farmer Melinda yesterday for brunch. I am a big fan of goat kids and always find them friendly, happy and just that little bit mad. The boys loved them and Marcus wanted to gambol in their paddock. Melinda lives in the narrow strip of South Hobart on the western side of the rivulet at the base of a nearly-vertical hill, and goats are probably the only animals that would be happy in this particular precipitous field. Even they have been provided with little ladders to help them get up and down.
Melinda has an excellent crop of fat raspberries and she made us pancakes to wrap them in. Michael found a ukelele and was hard to seperate from it, even to play with the goats. I went outside with Marcus at one stage and then saw, through a window, Michael attempting to play Melinda's cello with her special cellist's screwdriver. We smartly reintroduced the ukelele and there was no more trouble. He strummed it, he hugged it, he talked to it. The good thing is its exactly the same as the one already put away for Christmas.
Melinda has an excellent crop of fat raspberries and she made us pancakes to wrap them in. Michael found a ukelele and was hard to seperate from it, even to play with the goats. I went outside with Marcus at one stage and then saw, through a window, Michael attempting to play Melinda's cello with her special cellist's screwdriver. We smartly reintroduced the ukelele and there was no more trouble. He strummed it, he hugged it, he talked to it. The good thing is its exactly the same as the one already put away for Christmas.
Goalkeeping
Marcus is a keen and talented goalkeeper. When we play soccer in the backyard we only have room for one goal, so one of us is the keeper and one takes shots. He likes the diving about, so he usually contrives to stay in goal as long as possible. Our "goal" is a long upturned table. Our ball is a soft foam thing he was given before he could walk. I ping it at him from a fair way out, and he leaps about like a demented antelope. Obviously if it hits the table, its a goal. "No, that's not a goal - it bounced off" he'll say.
Mammoths
Marcus has really taken to a show called The Way Things Work, which is set on an island populated by people and benign wooly mammoths. We think (and hope) he was quoting this program when he bellowed at Elf "Get moving, you shaggy beast!".
Two lumps
Marcus got into an altercation with his friend Campbell at school on Friday. Then as Campbell tried to jump over him he collected Marcus with a sandshoe to the eyebrow. Caroline the carer did a fabulous job with the ice pack, and what was initially a golf ball threatening to split, was only a mauve shadow the next day. Caroline needed the ice-pack so Marcus and I went to the soopy for frozen peas.
It so happened the school Christmas party was on the next day. It coincided with torrential rain, so it was a bit like downtown Hong Kong - wet, steamy, crowded and manic. [I have never been to Hong Kong.] Santa had sweat streaming off him. He had presents (smuggled in by the parents) for all the kids. It went for about an hour and Marcus was 3rd last to get his loot, but he was very good about it.
Then as we were assembling ourselves to go home, Michael walked into a table and smacked himself just-not-quite-exactly where Marcus had. Caroline fetched the ice-pack with an air of resignation. He scared us by going very pale and not breathing for a little while but he shrugged it off very well. He has a smallish lump and is scamping normally.
It so happened the school Christmas party was on the next day. It coincided with torrential rain, so it was a bit like downtown Hong Kong - wet, steamy, crowded and manic. [I have never been to Hong Kong.] Santa had sweat streaming off him. He had presents (smuggled in by the parents) for all the kids. It went for about an hour and Marcus was 3rd last to get his loot, but he was very good about it.
Then as we were assembling ourselves to go home, Michael walked into a table and smacked himself just-not-quite-exactly where Marcus had. Caroline fetched the ice-pack with an air of resignation. He scared us by going very pale and not breathing for a little while but he shrugged it off very well. He has a smallish lump and is scamping normally.
Yoghurt and pencils
The breakfast stuff was on the table this morning; cereal, two-fruits and the tub of yoghurt. Michael is a big, big yoghurt fan. Usually theres also a wide range of junior arts and crafts materials, but we tidied the table on the weekend. Marcus got three-quarters of the way through his cereal and said "I've had enough - I want to do a drawing of a monster". He hadnt even looked around for the bucket of drawing things when Michael asked politely "Put pencil in yoghurt?"
Marcus composes
Guest blogger Elf writes:
After playing a particularly moving and 'sad' sounding piece of music on the piano with Chris, Marcus said
"That was about a beautiful flower that was picked and died and the person who picked it was trying to put it back together but he couldn't. It was very sad because the flower didn't want to die and didn't need to die."
A little later, after another pretty play: "That was a bell that woke up the flower."
There followed a few other pieces (undoubtedly in response to our great encouragement) among which were the explanations: "That was about a pickle who was lost." (Upon question, a pickle is "green and crisp...and sometimes purple".), and later "That was when somebody found the pickle and took it home."
After playing a particularly moving and 'sad' sounding piece of music on the piano with Chris, Marcus said
"That was about a beautiful flower that was picked and died and the person who picked it was trying to put it back together but he couldn't. It was very sad because the flower didn't want to die and didn't need to die."
A little later, after another pretty play: "That was a bell that woke up the flower."
There followed a few other pieces (undoubtedly in response to our great encouragement) among which were the explanations: "That was about a pickle who was lost." (Upon question, a pickle is "green and crisp...and sometimes purple".), and later "That was when somebody found the pickle and took it home."
Thursday, December 01, 2005
The Falabella
From Guide to Horses of the World "...it cannot be regarded as a serious riding pony". No kidding.
Western Front
I'm working on a CD-ROM for the Dept of Veterans Affairs at the moment. It's a school resource about the Western Front in WWI, designed to be useful for teachers from kindergarten up to grade 12. Some of the written accounts are very disturbing indeed. One nice little oddment stuck out though - from this list of the occupations of Australian men and women who enlisted.
Professional 15,719
Clerical 24,340
Tradesmen 112,452
Labourers 99,252
Country callings 57,430
Seafaring 6,562
Miscellaneous 14,122
Nurses 2,063
Isn't that nice? All the roustabouts, shearers and general hayseed farmhands come under "country callings".
Professional 15,719
Clerical 24,340
Tradesmen 112,452
Labourers 99,252
Country callings 57,430
Seafaring 6,562
Miscellaneous 14,122
Nurses 2,063
Isn't that nice? All the roustabouts, shearers and general hayseed farmhands come under "country callings".
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