I Don’t Think You’re Ready for this Jelly.

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I was going to title this post “Goodbye Cali-prawn-ia, Hello Octstralia!”, but as I’m not moving back to Sydney for another 5 weeks, I thought I’d keep it classic – plus, I’m going to a Prom themed party tonight, and I’m expecting to hear a ton of Destiny’s Child.

I just got back from a night at Dillon Beach, NorCal, where I squeezed in a little sea gazing accompanied by some highly relevant ocean-themed watercolour painting. After all, I had a new self-watering brush I wanted to try out which I used for the jellyfish and the octopus. It was a little limiting, and the thing I love about watercolours is their flexibility… So I put it aside and grabbed a normal brush to add some movement to the octopus.

Then, something magical happened in about 15 seconds. And that magical thing, was a prawn.

Really pleased with the prawn.

Also, can’t wait to chuck a coupla prawns on the barbie in 5 weeks! Oi oi oi!

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Foxen. It’s the plural.

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My life thus far has been a decoupage of mixed emotions and messages surrounding the common fox.

1. My mother hates them as they kill all the chickens and only eat one – necessitating her locking them in their coop every evening. She also used to go shooting foxes on farms as a young vet student.

2. My godmother’s family share the name Reynard and swathe their house in ornate figurines and tasteful imagery of delightfully mischievous, handsome foxes.

3. My favorite Dr. Seuss book was Fox in Socks… Which resulted in my ICQ name and first email address back in the 90’s (Wow. Just wow, that I just said that) being Fox In Sox. At hotmail of course. Also, I thought, what a foxy and appealing name to the pimply braces-clad boys who might court me via the internet in the hopes of sharing a bag of Wizz Fizz at the train station after school the next day; or more desirable even, that we might both be attending the same school-organised dance (I was enrolled at an all girls school, inter-school dances were our livelihood) where I would put on an impressive display of branding, upholding my web presence as the ‘fox in sox’ by donning a pair of knee-high rainbow socks.

4. I was also a big Roald Dahl fan as a kid, and frankly, Fantastic Mr Fox carried on like a complete jerk.

5. My closest family friend has a penchant for arctic fox fur, seizing any opportunity to travel to a climate cold enough and accepting enough for her to adorn herself in her plethora of luxurious wintry garments. Mind you, she’s in the Reynard family so I imagine that had some influence.

6. My most-viewed video on the internet to date involves Banjacks and Pervis (Anna Bennet and I) purchasing fox furs from a vintage store and wearing them while we have a spitting competition in the park. It’s called Vintage Furs.

So where does that leave me? Loving them? Hating them? Killing them? Filming them? Well I’m clearly thinking about them. And in doing so, Klaus and I noticed a flaw in the English language. Check it out:

One Ox, Two Oxen.

So…. I propose

One Fox, Two Foxen.

Come get some, Oxford dictionary. Or should I say, Oxenford dictionary.

Anyway, all this fox business came up as I’ve been asked to paint a fox mural with a friend from work this weekend. We shall name it Foxen and be paid in beer. Thus inspiring the following:

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So yeah. Foxen. It’s the plural. Spread the word.