The Third Man

It's true, there is another grandson, and I fear we have been guilty of neglecting him in these pages, so here are some pictures of Curious George.

What can I tell you about him? He's four months old now, he's a great watcher (especially of his Mum) and he thinks his big brother is wonderful, even though he's a bit rumbustious at times. I can also testify that he's a little furnace: always a very warm cuddle. Not sure yet where he gets his looks and his nature; not obviously a Richardson, at any rate. Time will tell.

Here he is, getting dressed on our front room floor.

Love my Mum!

Two little boys

(Cue Rolf Harris)

So grown up, when you're going on two and a half.

But wait! There's more. We all (well, all less three) had dinner at the Mortons last night, so here's a bonus pic of a couple of old grandfathers and their grandsons.

Only a lite beer at that stage, I promise.

That's George and me, Russell and Campbell.

Wattle Blossom, and a sad story

You could hardly call winter in Tasmania dire. Here we are in the first week of August (=February, for you guys up the other end of the planet) and and there are daffodils everywhere, the camellias are all coming out, and amongst the native plants the wattles are putting on their annual display. I snapped a couple of examples on our way round the Inglis River walk at Wynyard this afternoon, but you don't get the perfume. Think almond essence.

Wattle blossom
An introduced species, I think

But this is a native
Good old Black wattle

And a sad tale. We were just congratulating ourselves on spotting well over our projected target of 23 bird species (including a White Goshawk) and getting a really good view of a Tasmanian Scrubwren, that should at last enable me to distinguish it from the elusive Scrubtit, when I noticed a bundle of feathers up a tree. On close examination it was a recently-dead Grey Thrush that had somehow managed to wedge its neck between two branches and hanged itself! We love Grey Thrushes because they are so tuneful, and will often enter into a conversation if you whistle back to them.

Just too greedy, I guess

Boat Harbour Bulletin

I believe our small (but select) readership will appreciate a short bulletin from the shack, if only to take their minds away for a while.

We are here briefly to meet the builder who is going to install our new windows in the kitchen and bathroom in the coming weeks. Jarrod Poke turns out to be a young bloke from Wynyard who lived in Kingston Beach (Auburn Road!) for a while, and was taught by Alan Snare. We were very happy with him and confident to leave him a key so that he can just get on with it when the windows are made.

Lots of Pokes up this way

Jarrod will soon be building the replacement shack at the prime end-of-the-road West Bay site where the old shack was half blown away (not very well built, Jarrod said). At our last visit it was being dismantled, and now it's gone altogether, and the old slab is being broken up. We hope the new place has a design to complement what must be one of the all-time great sites (even if it is a bit windy). Who could complain about having albatrosses gliding past 100m or so away?

The West Bay shack: going
That Beamer has been sitting outside, unloved, for weeks

Gone!

Of course we have made a weekend of it, and so far the weather has been wild (overnight) and then classic BH winter: clear blue sky darkened periodically as cold squalls blow over the top of the hill. The albatrosses like it, and so do we. On our walk this afternoon we had five eagles in sight at once: two sea eagles and three wedgetails!

The office ain't bad either.

It's really good for your eyes to have a long view when you're working on the computer

Oh, and because he was on the camera, here's grandson #1 in his natural habitat.

Angus playing cars with Budda