Heavenly Beverley : ...And Reminiscing (Lyrics by Little River Band; Memories by Kate)

This weekend has marked the Beginning of an exceedingly busy festive season. I'm not entirely sure I'll come out the other end of December alive and kicking - does anybody have a decedent chaise lounge I can collapse onto when the activities cease?

We started the ball rolling with a beloved friend's 60th birthday party last Friday night...

Ten years ago, a bunch of us celebrated Susan Matthews' 50th birthday. Except she was called Susan Tomlinson then and had also had prior experience as Susan Pieters. I have entirely forgotten what Sue's maiden name was, but to me, she has always been known as Suzi Q.

I met Sue at the Kalparrin Mothers' Weekend some years prior to this momentous celebration. Sue was Mum to Meyah, her adopted daughter and Daniel, an unusual young lad who had been diagnosed as having autism.

Dan had tried various schools as Sue struggled to find an educational environment that suited him. She was home-schooling and finding the process tough going. Dan was on the brink of high school and needed to find a niche where he could learn, without her constant presence.

My autistic superstar, Alex, was attending Duncraig Senior High School. They had developed a remarkable programme for students who did not meet the criteria for Educational Support in a unit or centre. Alex was thoroughly integrated into the mainstream, with aide assistance during most of each day. The organisation of the aides and an associated literacy programme was steered by the remarkable Helen Womersley, who was headquartered in the Literary Unit, a tiny semi-classroom which offered a safe space for the students who fell into their sphere.

Every Education Assistant at the Literacy Centre was exceptional. They provided innovative protection from bullying for vulnerable students, spread themselves ingeniously so they could offer classroom support for students who were not necessarily eligible but still needed help with learning and a central location for their students to work if the classroom setting became too intense.

Dan entered Duncraig Senior High School under the guidance of the Literacy Team. Helen, as ever, was patient and unflappable. In fact, I don't believe I ever saw her ruffled or overly concerned in the four years I was associated with the school. Later, another child of our mutual friend Zelda also joined the school under the wing of the Literacy Centre. All three completed Year 12 at this fantastic school.

So, in November of 2008, I volunteered to organise Suzi Q's 50th birthday at the Little River Winery. This was an unmitigated disaster. The proprietor was bolshy - refusing to serve a requested wine for one of our group as the chosen vino apparently didn't compliment her meal. The service was slow and tedious, the loos were out of the Ark and the whole occasion could have been ruined without our warped senses of humour saving the day.

Suzi's 50th was a true demonstration of the Bad and the Ugly...there was precious little Good...

I was involved with a terribly nice and slightly dull New Zealand chap at the time. Christmas dinner at my house was the last straw for him. There were nineteen guests and seven dogs around the outside table, with Suzi's then partner Mark as a dry and witty Santa. The Kiwi fled soon afterwards.

For five months after Christmas in 2008, I went on a series of Unforgettable First Dates. There was the Wide-Mouthed Frog who grinned from ear to ear and stared at my bosom for the entirety of our date. I fell into fits of giggles a week or so later when we spied the Frog at another location with another unsuspecting victim. Then there was Dave the Brave, who had no sense of humour and didn't like dogs (he couldn't be bothered reading my profile). There was an exceedingly creepy anaesthetic technician who called me frigid when I refused his blunt offer of nooky. The Chillian Stallion thought he was God's gift to women - short, fat, bald and not attractive. He also regaled me of his family's loyalty to the ultra-right-wing Pinochet who had ousted the democratically elected Salvador Allende by force in 1973. Given that I am a socialist by heart, I felt our acquaintance would not be lengthy. The final date was with a bloke who'd spent some time in my neighbour's bed and felt he knew me well enough to meet for a coffee after he broke up with her. He collected torches...I rest my case.

Just as I was giving up any semblance of hope, Michael and I crossed paths. My username of Lunachick didn't put him off in the least. I was intrigued by his username - spider52. Later, I discovered the link was with his totem animal - the spider - and his age when he began sharing his photographs online.

Michael had been widowed on 1 December 2008. Terribly lonely during the following months, he had already ventured into the maze of online dating and endured an unsuccessful relationship. He felt his heart had been broken all over again.

Our first date, at the Whiteman Park dog exercise area, was a resounding success. An added bonus was that we were/are both notoriously unpunctual, so neither of us was upset when we were both late...

The rest is history.

On Friday night, we enjoyed a wonderful evening of love and laughter and reminiscing. Most of the crew were present from Sue's 50th ten years ago. Meyah, who had organised the party had the convenient excuse of just giving birth to her third child for her absence. Upon hearing of Meyah's organisation of this fabulous event, Suzi's exact words were "I'm going to kill the little bugger!". Family and friends, including her now very tall and amiable son Dan, cheered and sung and celebrated the night away.

I expect we'll do it all again in another ten years...

PS special mention must go to the Midland Tourist Park. Once an extremely suspect establishment with not much to recommend it at all, the caravan park is now super clean, with excellent ablution facilities and well organised with accommodation of all sorts, shaded caravan and camping sites, a swimming pool, recreation room and BBQs. Not a hint of any undesirables. A brand new Campers' Kitchen is nearing completion. Many thanks to Barbara and Natalia for your efficient cheerfulness. We'll certainly visit again.

Friday night it was late, I was walking you home
We got down to the gate, I was dreaming of the night
Would it turn out right?
How to tell you, girl, I want to build my world around you
Wanna tell you that it's true
I wanna make you understand I'm talking about a lifetime plan

Well that's the way it began, we were hand-in-hand
Glen Miller's band was better than before
We yelled and screamed for more
And those Porter's tunes made us dance across the room
It ended all too soon
On the way back home I promised you'd never be alone

Hurry, don't be late
I can't hardly wait
I said to myself when we're old
We'll go dancing in the dark, walking through the park
And reminiscing

Friday night it was late, I was walking you home
We got down to the gate, I was dreaming of the night
Would it turn out right?
Now as the years roll on, each time we hear our favourite song
The memories come along
Older times we're missing, spending the hours reminiscing

Hurry, don't be late
I can't hardly wait
I said to myself when we're old
We'll go dancing in the dark, walking through the park
And reminiscing