Hands, Knees and Oops-A-Daisy

"Doll, - quick! Quick", urged the Machinist, as I was about to cook him some 'just done' scrambled eggs. I ran through (yes, you read that right - ran) to the front room, extremely aware and cautious of our front door being unlocked. (At at any given time, young or old homo sapiens have entered, without so much as a knock).

I gingerly lifted the lace curtain, not wanting anybody to see it move, as I was STILL in my silky slumber number.....

The sounds of merriment and clapping (albeit out of rhythm. The clapping, that is) were evident before I caught sight of what was occuring. Then I saw pillar box red 'something-ma-bobbies' doing just that; bobbing up and down. Mid morning sun was bright and it took a time to focus....

The Machinist, on my request, took some pics to show you. Here's four of our virile local lads, pleasantly (you should have seen them jig) ENDURING a photo shoot in all the habiliment of days gone by. They've written a song about our village (once rampant with bushrangers - some more notorious than others, some just plain mean) and this was their chosen publicity gig.

Watch this space for updates and news concerning our very own celebrated, song-writing, shimmying quatro....