Tahune Airwalk Tasmania
Monday 28 March 2016
Sunday 27 March 2016
Time Masheen
Sunday 27th March, 2016 (maybe...)
I woke up this morning in 1989; Streeton Drive, Weston Creek, Canberra.
It's quite wonderful to be able to hold onto these half-awake moments first thing in the morning when you are not sure where (or in this case when) you are.
What is amazing about the possibilities of the omniverse (or is it multiverse), is that time travel seems entirely likely. Maybe we just need to let go of our insistence of the linearity and unidirectionality of time to which we are accustomed.
Of course at the moment we are still firmly rooted in the present (entendre intended), particularly when half-awake turns into fully awake. But today is certainly a gift which is why it is called the present.
And of the future I can only show you a picture taken with an amazing time masheen camera. Here is me in 25 years time, in the kitchen.
Do come and visit! And where is Miss Kym? Taking the photo of course!
Kym also is sick of me listening to Kermit The Frog (aka GM Benjamin Finegold) talking about chess in his online video series. She has come up with a new version of chess which she says is based on reality, The "horse" can only move if it has been recently shod. The Queen may not move if she is pregnant, and the Bishop may be delayed due to a Royal Commission.
Seems reasonable...
Happy Easter for this year (and beyond).
I woke up this morning in 1989; Streeton Drive, Weston Creek, Canberra.
It's quite wonderful to be able to hold onto these half-awake moments first thing in the morning when you are not sure where (or in this case when) you are.
What is amazing about the possibilities of the omniverse (or is it multiverse), is that time travel seems entirely likely. Maybe we just need to let go of our insistence of the linearity and unidirectionality of time to which we are accustomed.
Of course at the moment we are still firmly rooted in the present (entendre intended), particularly when half-awake turns into fully awake. But today is certainly a gift which is why it is called the present.
And of the future I can only show you a picture taken with an amazing time masheen camera. Here is me in 25 years time, in the kitchen.
 |
| Hey pig, have you seen the dog anywhere? |
Kym also is sick of me listening to Kermit The Frog (aka GM Benjamin Finegold) talking about chess in his online video series. She has come up with a new version of chess which she says is based on reality, The "horse" can only move if it has been recently shod. The Queen may not move if she is pregnant, and the Bishop may be delayed due to a Royal Commission.
Seems reasonable...
Happy Easter for this year (and beyond).
Sunday 20 March 2016
Goaty Oaty Oaty!
Sunday 20th March, 2016
We spent a lovely few hours at the Huon Small Farms Expo today learning about poultry, plants and livestock of all shapes and sizes. Kym is keen to have animals as pets on the new property (5 acres) and I'm keen to eat a few animals grown on the new property.
That could make for an interesting marital dynamic - watch this space! The word "vegetarianism" has been bandied about quite a bit lately, and of course I'm very supportive...er, most of the time.
We also looked at farm machinery, various crafty things (like wool spinning), and took home a wonderful IPA made by a local brewer. All up a nice weekend, but don't get either of us started with taking over phones from Kym's old work - stupid stupid stupid idiotic moronic hopeless Telstra! And thanks Optus for picking up the slack! Kym now has a new phone and new number, and I have quite a few new grey hairs...
Here is a goat - expect more pictures in time...
We spent a lovely few hours at the Huon Small Farms Expo today learning about poultry, plants and livestock of all shapes and sizes. Kym is keen to have animals as pets on the new property (5 acres) and I'm keen to eat a few animals grown on the new property.
That could make for an interesting marital dynamic - watch this space! The word "vegetarianism" has been bandied about quite a bit lately, and of course I'm very supportive...er, most of the time.
We also looked at farm machinery, various crafty things (like wool spinning), and took home a wonderful IPA made by a local brewer. All up a nice weekend, but don't get either of us started with taking over phones from Kym's old work - stupid stupid stupid idiotic moronic hopeless Telstra! And thanks Optus for picking up the slack! Kym now has a new phone and new number, and I have quite a few new grey hairs...
Here is a goat - expect more pictures in time...
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| Mmmm - tasty pet! |
Sunday 13 March 2016
Why call a house "Charis"?
Sunday 13th March, 2016
Our new house will be nestled in the hills and named "Charis" which means Grace - but why? Perhaps a parable might help...
A young man who was living in a remote village decided that the politics, dissension and pettiness of his fellow villagers was just too much to bear.
He packed up a small swag, and set off with the rather grand notion of travelling all of the world's roads.
Many years later he came across some information that enabled him to make powerful explosives and project his voice - although he never had cause to use this power.
He continued his travels mostly in peace, until one day he was walking along a lonely country road when he saw quite a dilapidated old cottage close to the road with a bent old lady tending a modest garden out the front.
The old lady beckoned him in for a meal, and he gladly accepted her hospitality. He asked her why she was living all alone so far from any village. She told him that in her village she had been cast out by evil persons who wished harm to her and her family. As an outcast she was now bound to spend the remainder of her days in lonely solitude.
The travelling man was incensed that the villagers had been so cruel to such a welcoming person, and with this knowledge he resolved to wreak vengeance on the village. After obtaining directions from the old lady he set out immediately.
When he came across the village as directed he set about berating the villagers with his powerful booming voice and casting about with explosions to rent asunder their limbs from their bodies. When he was finished there was little of the village that remained, and he became shocked at his violence and quickly continued his journey in search of any wisdom that might help him unravel the conundrum of his life.
Decades later as an old man he was walking along a familiar road and he happened upon a decrepit cottage with a young woman tending a small garden at the front. She called him in for a meal, and he accepted her hospitality. He asked her why she was living all alone in the wilderness.
She told a story of her life in a nearby village as a very young girl. The village was not a happy place, but recently they had cast out the cause of all of their troubles, a wicked old lady who had set friend against friend and family against family with her gossip and disgraceful behaviour.
Then one day the young girl was tending the well when a big booming voice struck the village and explosions rocked her off her feet and into the well. She survived the terrible carnage and managed to escape days later. She buried the dead, set right the stones that defined the village outskirts, then lived for a number of years in a cave close by the village, hoping for her family and friends to return.
Years later she set out to find anyone who might know of their whereabouts. She happened upon the small empty cottage and took it over as her own home. She invited the man to live in the cottage with her for as long as he wished.
The old man was deeply touched by her story and her offer. He enquired about her name. She told him that her name was Grace, and she offered him a warm drink and a seat on the verandah of his new home.
And now for a quick video of our crazy driveway - fun in a 4WD car, a nightmare for an Italian Princess.
Our new house will be nestled in the hills and named "Charis" which means Grace - but why? Perhaps a parable might help...
A young man who was living in a remote village decided that the politics, dissension and pettiness of his fellow villagers was just too much to bear.
He packed up a small swag, and set off with the rather grand notion of travelling all of the world's roads.
Many years later he came across some information that enabled him to make powerful explosives and project his voice - although he never had cause to use this power.
He continued his travels mostly in peace, until one day he was walking along a lonely country road when he saw quite a dilapidated old cottage close to the road with a bent old lady tending a modest garden out the front.
The old lady beckoned him in for a meal, and he gladly accepted her hospitality. He asked her why she was living all alone so far from any village. She told him that in her village she had been cast out by evil persons who wished harm to her and her family. As an outcast she was now bound to spend the remainder of her days in lonely solitude.
The travelling man was incensed that the villagers had been so cruel to such a welcoming person, and with this knowledge he resolved to wreak vengeance on the village. After obtaining directions from the old lady he set out immediately.
When he came across the village as directed he set about berating the villagers with his powerful booming voice and casting about with explosions to rent asunder their limbs from their bodies. When he was finished there was little of the village that remained, and he became shocked at his violence and quickly continued his journey in search of any wisdom that might help him unravel the conundrum of his life.
Decades later as an old man he was walking along a familiar road and he happened upon a decrepit cottage with a young woman tending a small garden at the front. She called him in for a meal, and he accepted her hospitality. He asked her why she was living all alone in the wilderness.
She told a story of her life in a nearby village as a very young girl. The village was not a happy place, but recently they had cast out the cause of all of their troubles, a wicked old lady who had set friend against friend and family against family with her gossip and disgraceful behaviour.
Then one day the young girl was tending the well when a big booming voice struck the village and explosions rocked her off her feet and into the well. She survived the terrible carnage and managed to escape days later. She buried the dead, set right the stones that defined the village outskirts, then lived for a number of years in a cave close by the village, hoping for her family and friends to return.
Years later she set out to find anyone who might know of their whereabouts. She happened upon the small empty cottage and took it over as her own home. She invited the man to live in the cottage with her for as long as he wished.
The old man was deeply touched by her story and her offer. He enquired about her name. She told him that her name was Grace, and she offered him a warm drink and a seat on the verandah of his new home.
And now for a quick video of our crazy driveway - fun in a 4WD car, a nightmare for an Italian Princess.
Sunday 6 March 2016
Canvas for the imagination
Sunday 6 March, 2016
“The unfed mind devours itself.” Gore Vidal
Much has been written about MONA, and I don't presume to add anything of value to the debate. I will agree with Vidal's proposal that the mind needs food as much as the body; a life devoid of art, music, poetry, mathematics and good old Socratic examination seems not like life at all.
MONA for my money (bearing in mind that as Tasmanians we get free entry) fulfils the necessity for frontal lobe tickling. It also tickles me that it has been made possible directly via Mathematics. That most of the population prefer to spend their time glued to "Australia's Fattest Dancing Chef™" (Season 11) lessens not the alternatives.
So we will continue to visit, and also be buoyed by the many offshoot festivals that it inspires. Good one, David. Get up em...
“The unfed mind devours itself.” Gore Vidal
Much has been written about MONA, and I don't presume to add anything of value to the debate. I will agree with Vidal's proposal that the mind needs food as much as the body; a life devoid of art, music, poetry, mathematics and good old Socratic examination seems not like life at all.
MONA for my money (bearing in mind that as Tasmanians we get free entry) fulfils the necessity for frontal lobe tickling. It also tickles me that it has been made possible directly via Mathematics. That most of the population prefer to spend their time glued to "Australia's Fattest Dancing Chef™" (Season 11) lessens not the alternatives.
So we will continue to visit, and also be buoyed by the many offshoot festivals that it inspires. Good one, David. Get up em...
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| MONA exhibition piece |
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| Bloody big Nolan |
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| Down past Kettering at Peppermint Bay in the sand |
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