Children are great imitators. So give them something great to imitate.
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December was crazy – extra hours at work, late night shifts, Christmas shopping, packing, moving house…. Yes. Moving house. In December. Such timing!! Oh so very worth it though….
This is the view from the top of the house driveway. That large shed you see is my workshop. It has a large storeroom, chalkboards, record player…. I’ll probably spend a fair amount of time down there. Especially if the Outlaws really do give me that old Valiant to restore. For now though, the plan is to use it for set building, messier makeups & spfx prosthetic making, & occasionally as a set itself.
This morning I lost my best friend to cancer. He couldn’t talk to me about it. He didn’t often complain at all, but he would sit with me &, towards the end would, cry softly – & yet never ask for a thing. He was always there for me first. Never himself. He always sat beside me, or rested his head on my shoulder or lap, & never judged me while I cried or poured my heart & soul out to him. He just listened. Always.
He was my best friend. My brother. My protector. My confidant. My companion.
My dog.
I can still remember the day that Greg & I went & picked him up as a puppy. He was the dojo dog. My beautiful black ninja. He would get so excited & yodel from the backseat whenever I took him back there with me to training. My big, part feral, cat taught him everything he knew about how to act. That a barrel chested staffy pit bull cross could walk along the ridge capping of a super 6 fence was testament to that cat’s ability to teach. He could clear a 7′ fence with a standing jump. Yet when he got up on top of the dining table, he cried out for help due to not knowing how to get back down.
He was with me through all of the hell that was year 11 & 12. He sat with me while I studied for my TEE. He stayed up late into the night watching the latest Star Trek releases. And the classics. He was with me as I prepared before my wedding & was part of my photos. He’d have walked me down the aisle with my Dad if it wasn’t for those ridiculous laws the Australian Government brought in against his breed. He was fiercely loyal & protective. He’d put himself in between me & any perceived danger.
Rest in Peace, Ozzie. My faithful companion. Thank you for your time & for all the wonderful memories.
February 1998 – October 2011.
I’m almost up to my ears in research for this book, but here’s a little more that I’m still
needing to source. It would be wonderful if you could comment on this post with your answers to the below questionnaire, or (if you’d like to keep your answers private) email me ( shoes at dragancaor dot net ) & put the title of this post as the subject line. Please let me know your age & the country you live in – after all, this is for research & that’s a vital part!
This is a questionnaire about thongs. To save on confusion, I’ve included a photo of the type of Thong I am referring to. [winks]
Edited to fix confusion in questions 10 & 11. Also to add in an age question (as requested in the paragraph above, but not originally included in the questionnaire).
Back at Dave’s, we opened up the sliding doors into his dining room. He’d already moved the dining table & side tables out of the room in preparation. We rolled out the underlay, but not without having a little fun. After all, we’re not only laying plastic grass inside the house, but we’re doing so over the top of his rather lovely floorboards.


There’s been an ongoing joke amongst my friends & colleagues that I see the world through my lens. Never before have I actually seen exactly what they meant.
I know that everyone sees things differently… but it’s a rare thing when we actually get to see how differently. When I look at something, I unconsciously note the lines, angles, lighting, & frame it all within my head. I didn’t realise I also factor in depth of field, different angles of view (as in, ones that would involve standing elsewhere to actually see), & perspective warping.