Friday, 24 October 2014

Getting a feel for early Sydney

The Glover cottages are located on an artificial rock shelf on the east side of Kent Street. The 1820s cottage was built by Thomas Glover, the mason responsible for much of the fine craftsmanship on the government buildings commissioned by Governor Macquarie, and is said to be one of the first terrace style buildings in Sydney. Much of the adjacent rock shelves were quarried for buildings in early Sydney, like The Lord Nelson..

Thursday, 23 October 2014

Bonding

What better way to bond with my younger grand-daughter than over a "Milk Coffee" biscuit? Juliet had water, and Ma had a Nespresso "Dharkan".

Then we got back into kneading the playdoh.

Wednesday, 22 October 2014

Aussiemandias

And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Some short-comings I acknowledge, but all-in-all, I am so glad we had him.

Tuesday, 21 October 2014

Question Time

My grand-daughter often finds it a chore to get through dinner-time, even though thirty minutes earlier she had been starving and really, really needed a peanut-butter 'n' honey Sao. So, my daughter has introduced "Question Time". Tonight, Alannah asked, "How do you make glass?"

Mama opined that somehow sand was involved. Papa phoned his friend, Mr Google. The child was satisfied with the explanation that a part of sand was heated so very, very hot that it melted.

This sand is on Clontarf Reserve beach, but not protected by the shark enclosure. Being a calm, harbour beach, there are not many shells. There was an array of beach ephemera though, sufficient to engross this photographer.

Monday, 20 October 2014

Figment upon a Fez

The design engineer could probably see his dream in his imagination, but like many things in life, had trouble getting the vision to flow out the tips of his fingers. Perhaps it is simply a chap being held at gunpoint with a penny-bunger shoved in his mouth. Perhaps it is the last resting place of a fez afficionado. Perhaps it is a concept drawing for Escher's "Waterfall".

One of the saving graces of the seaside, is that stunted genius lasts until the next tide.