A picture's worth 1000 words … week 17 ...

A photo a day … every day … in 2014.

Day 110:  You're never too old for a visit from the Easter Bunny.

Day 111:  Light on a feather.

Day 112:  Bananas … more on a bowl than in a bowl.

Day 113:  Hubby's leaving on a jet plane … don't know when … kidding he was back on Saturday.

Day 114:  Bee's knees.

Day 115:  Boys … just chillin'.

Day 116:  I see the light.

Lest we forget ...

It's Anzac Day today.

In Australia and New Zealand it is a national day of remembrance when we commemorate our fallen soldiers.

Last Anzac Day I wrote about my own family connection to the Anzac's here.

This year I thought I would share a letter sent by my Uncle at the front to his Mother back home.

France

6/6/17

My Dear Mother,

Just a few lines to you while I have the time, as in a few hours I will be in the thick of the fight.  Inside twelve hours I will know what real war is, I have only been playing soldiers up till now.  This may be the last letter I will ever write.  But never mind this is what I came over here for & I am going to do my best for my country that I can, even dying for it if necessary, but even if it comes to the worst Mother do not worry about me, I am alright & should we never meet again in this world, we shall in the next, that is one consolation.

Well Mother Dear I don't feel like writing much under the present circumstances but you know how I feel, it is a case of "Just before the battle Mother I am thinking most of you".

Well I must close now.  With Best Love to all at home & all other Friends, don't forget Lily.

From Your Ever Loving Son

Cliff.

This letter was written on the 6th of June, 1917 … Uncle Cliff lost his life on the 7th June, 1917.

He was 20 years old.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old.

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning.

We will remember them.

Lest We Forget.

If the shoe fits ...

There's been a bit of chatter out there in the blogosphere lately on the subject of shoes … and who has a lot or a little of them.

Now Sue … who seems to me to buy a lot of shoes … bravely revealed her entire shoe collection … and it really wasn't terribly excessive at all.

And then Sandra revealed her entire shoe collection … and it was a very modest, respectable size.

It was at about that point in time that I realised I may just have a little problem … a bit of a footwear fetish … a moccasin malfunction … a clodhopper crisis … which has remained unacknowledged until now.

But in my own defense … and heaven knows I need one … it must be noted that this collection has been amassed over a loooong period of time … which may in turn lead to the acknowledgement of previously undiagnosed hoarding problem.

So in an effort to put myself on the road to recovery … one must first face the reality of the issue … and face it head on.

So … *deep breath* … here … is my shoe collection.

The espadrille collection

The sporty collection

The hand me down collection

One of the side effects of having freakishly small feet is that whenever someone else finds themselves shod in a pair that feel a little snug … they hand them down … to me.  After all no one has smaller feet than me.

Not Hubby.

Not Master 16.

Not Master 14.

Not even Buster.

Note:  This photo may not be strictly to scale

The only ever worn once collection

I think you can probably tell why!

The wedge collection

The evening collection

The one legged collection

The heels collection

The flats collection

The mule collection

The sandal collection

The short boot collection

The tall boot collection

This pair also belongs in the hand me down collection.

The butt ugly but oh so comfortable collection

The slipper collection

Which would also be quite at home in the Butt ugly but oh so comfortable collection.

The bridal collection

PHEW … that's it … I have faced my demons and revealed the evidence of my excessive behaviour  … well except for my thong collection … that's them over there.

I'm hanging my head in shame … please don't judge me!!

A picture's worth 1000 words … week 16 ...

A photo a day … every day ... in 2014.

Day 103:  What do you do when you're at the footy and it starts to rain?  You go inside and watch it on the television of course!

Day 104:  Buster takes his Neighbourhood Watch Duty very seriously.

Day 105:  Position Vacant:  Guest required to inhabit guest room.

Day 106:  Berries in the garden … eat at your own risk.

Day 107:  Master 14 sets an elaborate lizard trap … and then sits back and waits … and waits.

Day 108:  Morning dew … and thirsty caterpillar.

Day 109:  Saturday puts on a spectacular farewell.

Linking up over at The Beetle Shack.

Good grief … it's Good Friday ...

Umm … correct me if I'm wrong … but wasn't it only Christmas about six days ago … six weeks at the absolute maximum … and that's severely pushing it.

But apparently we find ourselves at Easter … and Good Friday most specifically.

Good Friday is an odd kind of day … the one day of the year where there is really nothing going on.  No shops or pubs or activities … but without the "gotta go and visit as many family members as possible in one day" pressure of Christmas.

It's a lazy kind of day … well it is for us nonpracticing religious type folk.

First on the agenda for the day was a bit of baking … Hubby is currently turning into some kind of Betty Crocker … and decided to whip up a batch of hot cross buns.

This is despite the fact that I bought THREE packets of them in Coles yesterday … because a) it's Easter and it's kind of a legal requirement to have hot cross buns in the house at Easter and b) I fell victim to the buy 3 for the price of 2 sting … when as it turns out I didn't even need 1.

They did look pretty good … Hubby's buns not Coles … I don't know Coles that well ;0)

After partaking of the buns … and feeling them making themselves at home on our thighs ... we decided a little physical exercise was the order of the day.

After all it was a beautiful day outside.

The boys played with their balls.

While I walked Buster from one sniffing post to the next …

and everything in between.

After which Buster settled into the only shade he could find to watch those boyish shenanigans.

Catching the ball.

Fighting over the ball.

And sometimes missing the ball entirely.

Time for a couple of quick  Easterish portraits.

A  quick run.

A drink.

And home again.

Then Hubby and I ventured off on a scenic drive … where I took a couple of photos of said scenery.

And one of the barbed wire … just for the sake of it.

And then … even though we are nonpracticing religious type folk … we decided to have fish for lunch … because a) anyday is a good day for fish in my books and b) it was the only place open.

Now I'm off to google just why it is we should eat fish on Good Friday.

Happy Easter Everyone!!