Articles in “Random Photographs”

The little lizard is not normally as visible as the larger one: he skulks up the back of the garden or dashes across it incredibly fast, where the bigger one tends to remain, statuelike, in a single position.

But this time I nearly trod on him as I was heading down the back steps to the laundry:

I have my suspicions that he’s holding his front foot like that deliberately. After I nearly stepped on him and then dashed back inside for my camera, I bet he twisted it round quickly so that he could give me a plaintive look implying that his mobility is impaired and that I should look where I’m going.

His mobility isn’t impaired, of course: he rapidly became unhappy about having his picture taken, and hared off down the garden. But you cannot ever truly escape the madwoman with the camera who hasn’t updated her blog in three days.

I would cue a maniacal laugh here, but I’m worried that’s it’s becoming habitual to me. And there’s nothing worse than when your cliches become habitual.

(Unless it’s when your cloches becomes habitual, which is what I originally typed.)

It’s not actually a yukka: I forget what it is, but it looks like a yukka, so I can never remember to use its real name:

The flower stalk is almost as tall as both the palm tree and the mulberry.

And yet it’s curiously delicate in detail:

Remember, live-blogging Doctor Who tonight (although, apparently, I’m the only one who tends to forget. So it’s more an aide de memoire for me).

Nothing is more relaxing than the sight of ducks.

I’m going to do him the courtesy of assuming that he’s realised the camera is benign. Because now he doesn’t seem to care how close I get; he doesn’t even get restless during the closer shots.

It certainly saves me time on cropping and editing photographs,

He’s also developing his range of facial expressions.

See?

Pugnacious:

Bored:

Superbly disdainful:

An apology for not managing a proper update.

I did issue a warning, way back when, that the new camera would mean many more photographs on the blog.

I am a woman of my word.

I am also a woman whose less than five hours sleep has turned into a dull headache at the base of her skull, so this is about as scintillating and intelligent as I get this afternoon: a many weeks old photograph of a sunset and a vague, gnawing worry that I’ve made at least two egregious errors in punctuation in this post.

Still, it’s pretty, yes?

I came back from grocery shopping this afternoon, and noticed that the possum was sleeping under the floorboards again, but in a different position.

Now, I’m not one to waste the opportunity to demonstrate that the wildlife under my floorboards isn’t actually dead:

Then the chair I was standing on to take the photograph exploded.

This chair:

That wasn’t the most pleasant thing that’s happened to me all day, I must say. Nick took this picture, because the chair and I are no longer on speaking terms.

Then I noticed I could take an equally cute picture of the possum from another angle, an angle in which you can see that they’ve pulled some of the insulation up to use as a pillow:

Nobody can excuse me of being unable to see the silver lining.

It would have been the moon, but there hasn’t been a decent full moon recently.

I call this one “Terrified Lizard Who Can’t Show Himself In The Back Garden Without Being Chased By a Madwoman With A Camera.”

The article goes back to the editor tomorrow, and then normal blogging will resume, I promise. Well, plus abnormal blogging on Tuesday nights when Doctor Who is on.

Well, at least someone is enjoying this weather.

This is more than a half-hearted update, however: it’s also a note to say that I will be live-blogging Doctor Who this evening, and continuing throughout the ABC’s airing of season two. It will mean a hiatus to my real-time blogging of season one, which I’d barely started, but it’s always more fun when we’re actually watching the episodes on television.

Remember, if you’re not an NCIS fan: ABC1 at 8:30 p.m. (Brisbane time for the live-blogging, of course).

I think I’ve figured out where our possum sleeps during the day:

That’s right: today’s discerning possum chooses not a hollow tree, but the small space between a cupboard and the floorboards in a suburban garage.

I’ll say this for him: he’s a heavy sleeper. Nothing disturbs him: not the garage door opening and closing, not the car moving, and not unexpected flash photography. If only I could sleep that soundly.