Spider52 contacted Lunachick on Oasis Active (an online dating site) on 19 May 2009. We engaged in a conversation via the internet for a couple of hours. I was worried that Spider52 was taking an inordinate length of time to respond to my questions and comments. The reality was that he was just slower at typing than me. How I laughed at myself when I found out the reason for his apparent hesitancy.
We met with the dogs at the Whiteman Park Dog Exercise Area the following Saturday. I was smitten on the spot. I had been on a lot of first dates - with the Wide Mouthed Frog (who had a leery grin from ear to ear whilst oggling my breasts), with Dave the Brave (who disliked dogs, and still contacted me in spite of my VERY specific profile) and with the Chilean Stallion (short, fat with no neck and a admiration for General Pinochet). I had almost stopped believing that there were any decent men left in the universe. Then I had a first date with Michael.
We have celebrated quite a few birthdays together since then. The first two of Michael's birthdays with me were in my dinky little duplex in Marangaroo. Then we moved to country Western Australia and became the Beverley Hillbillies.
This week, in the days prior to Michael's 59th birthday yesterday, were staggeringly busy and complicated. Perth, Northam, York - we went everywhere over two frantic days, due to a sick Beagle, an injured son of mine and our own scheduled appointments. And then, Michael's birthday turned into a topsy turvy day as well.
I can't think what possessed me when I booked an air conditioning salesman to come and quote for us at 9am. I don't think Michael has actually forgiven me yet for this indiscretion. He recovered somewhat when I cooked him his favourite breakfast of bacon and eggs. He made a quick sojourn to our shops before I phoned him to come home for his haircut by our fabulous mobile hairdresser.
He was off colour when he came in and retired to our bedroom. My antennae were on high alert. He recovered enough to have his haircut and then returned to bed. I dosed him with an anti nauseant tablet, turned on his electric blanket and put a heat pack on his feet. He slept for a while and emerged, somewhat refreshed. He was well enough to polish off some soup and a hot bread roll. We don't know what caused this sudden onset of lethargy and sickness or why it passed with rest and warmth.
Some aspects of his birthday were quite special, in spite of everything. Alex and Vanessa were at the House that Rocks, trying to assure Michael of their love. None of his four biological children contacted him, for reasons that I don't understand. I have tried to communicate with all four of them with no success. All I can think is that their rejection of their father is their loss.
We had a lovely afternoon in the garden, followed by a delicious roast chicken dinner with the kids. Michael was delighted with his presents - a hammock, Tee shirts and a book from me and a BBQ set and an electric shaver and beard trimmer from Vanessa. We watched some TV together before bed.
And so, my beloved Michael has turned 59. He is alive after a torrid year that shows no sign of completely resolving anytime soon. He has his good humour and he works, bloody hard, when he is well enough.
We still hope to have an official opening of the East End Gallery in early December. That's what I live for, to keep Michael well, so he can achieve his dream and have his metal art gallery.
Michael with two of his favourite loves - Ruby the Beagle and red wine!
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