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Grace and Hugh don't camp.

The ill-fated purchase. Even if it's a 10 second pop-up tent you've still gotta sleep in it for 8 hrs. One Night. We got through one night camping. If we wanted character building, we got it. We’re built. Made. Set for life. First up, it stormed. For two hours. And the power went out. So we sat, from 7 till 9 pm, in the front of the car, watching bad outtakes from the days video blogs and eatirng dip and chips for dinner. When we finally crawled into our tents, exhausted (at like 10pm), we fell straight to sleep. Around 1am I woke up. Something was wrong. I was… cold? COLD? Having spent the last week in Tamworth and surrounds in mid january, cold was a foreign sensation to me. How could I be

Piano Bush Magic

Something about the concept of two people pushing a piano across country brings out the best in people. Maybe because it makes the cliche of the struggling artist tangible. Maybe because passersby are a little bit tickled by absurd, and the sight of a piano in a paddock shocks them out of thinking about what to cook for dinner and when to take the garbage out. Or maybe everyone is just humouring us. Regardless, we've met some bloody good people by pushing this piano around. Hughie and I drove past a crumbling ruin of a house in a paddock today, and decided it was the perfect place to film “Save the Throwing Stones.” “… Cos there’s too many rooms… in this house with one light…” We called the