Hi all!

I'm really sorry to do this to you, but I have moved house again. Sorry to be a pain. I'm over at an old place I had at blogspot and promise to move no more. No excuses other than I am a gumby and I just find it easier. Of course I will still remain a member here at Vox and come and see you all regularly. :D

Meanwhile, please do feel free to pop by for sherry and canapes. Latest post now showing.

http://australosquilla.blogspot.com/ 

Love Squilla XXXXX

Well, what can I say? After such an amazing response I can hardly back out now! Thank you, guys. I didn't realise so many of you were affiliated with Vox. And thank you King for such an amazing wrap. I'm feeling rather humbled. :)

In the absence of knowing where to start, I think I'll just attempt a little story. It's a recent story and it kind of sums up my personal state. This state probably hasn't changed since my last blog post all that time ago, but I'll let you be the judge.

It all starts with my friend who is so up there in the world. You know. He knows famous people and stuff. In fact, knowing famous people is his job. His name is Benny and he is the international tour manager for just about every cool band you have ever heard of. My top ten of cool, anyway.  In any case, I will always regard him as a top-notch confidant and friend. We don’t see each other often. In fact we are rarely in the same country. Still, when we are, we never turn down the chance to catch up over a cup of coffee or a few beers. And recently, in Sydney, that’s just what happened.

Before heading off to meet him at the Intercontinental Hotel, I spent careful time getting ready so as to look the part. Although I am not afraid to walk into grand establishments like I know what I am doing, the truth is they can make me feel a bit self conscious. Like I am not wearing the right thing. Or I need immediate waxing and dermabrasion. Still, underneath it all, I also know that there is no reason why I shouldn’t be there. Opting for a ‘casual’ look, my only real problem was my hair. I have a half grown out fringe, you see, and it is a real pain. It also was not responding to Sydney’s late summer humidity very well and so I decided to secure it back with one of those plastic headband things and then cover the whole lot up with a funky 50’s scarf. Satisfied, I thought I’d gotten away with it.

The problem arose when I got to the hotel. A beautiful old place created out the stone shell of a federation bank, I opted to powder my nose before meeting my friend.One glance in the mirror and I knew my ‘do’ also needed attention.

I pulled off the scarf to find that – oh no! -  the cheap plastic headband had gone soft in the sun. It broke in two, pinging off each side of my skull, releasing a dented and frizzy blonde mass. My fringe. It stuck out obtusely on each side, defying gravity and making me look like Krusty the Clown. Ack!

You would think I could have just put the scarf back over it, but I am ashamed to say that I have a funny shaped head and the scarf wouldn’t sit without the underlying band. I felt doomed. I couldn’t go out into that posh bar to meet Benny looking like that! Not on your life!

In a flash of inspiration, I stopped a strange lady who had just walked in and asked if she happened to have a band aid. She was cool and classy and looked as if she had just stepped out of the shower into freshly ironed clothes. Goodness only knows what she thought of my sweaty clown look, but she fossicked in her Gucci bag and came up with the goods. Happy days. I band-aided the headband together, covered it with the scarf and hoped for the best. Then I sojourned to the bar to await my friend, trying desperately not to fiddle or to look self conscious.

Unfortunately, all was in vain.  As soon as I saw Benny I gave him a great big hug and the whole contraption exploded from my skull, clattering onto the posh tiled floor, raising the eyebrows of everyone nearby. Krusty was back. The only adornment remaining was the bandaid now hopelessly stuck to a generous peak-like tuft.

Benny stepped back and at arm’s length beheld me as one does a long lost friend.  Without batting an eyelid he then disturbingly remarked “You haven’t changed a bit.”

Hey hey!

I'm considering starting a new blog. Not sure how to work this thing and it might not be pretty. Any takers?

Snow on the mountain out the back of our new place in Tasmania...

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Fundy and I give a wave from the beach 500m from our shack...

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The 'Nature Channel', up the road from our shack.... (you can see Nature's 'screen'!)....

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"The Shack". Very rustic. Washing one's hair in the rainwater shower is a challenge. Hey, but these are the sacrifices one must make, and the home fires are burning and beers in the fridge for one and all ...

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What do you think, guys? Would any of you have me back? I'm a crisis of confidence in so many ways. Again.  Like I say, it might not be pretty...