Heavenly Beverley : It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World...!

Remember all those slapstick movies that we absolutely adored. They took up away from our mundane, everyday routine and filled us, instead, with hysterical laughter for the ninety minutes or so that the film ran. Think of "The Great Race" or "Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines" or "What's Up Doc?" or any of "The Pink Panther" series. I still cannot think of those words "Not now, Kato" without dissolving into giggles.

The frenetic pace of these movies was a quick fire onslaught on our senses. And sometimes the slapstick does surface, quite unexpectedly and riotously, during what we consider to be normality.

Take Thursday for example. We hurtled away from the House that Rocks in Kermit with the Trusty Trailer to complete Part II of "Alex's Relocation" from Yokine to Willagee, at the extraordinary early hour (for us) of 9 am.

We are not usually fast starters in the morning. We rarely bolt out of bed singing the praises of a fresh, new day. One impediment to rising is the cat's disapproving glare as we exit from the bed stage right. She then feels compelled to join us in the kitchen and demand food. Now.

We made the trek safely to the Big Smoke by 11. First stop was the real estate agency to pick up keys and lift the thoroughness of jobs that had not been deemed satisfactory by the property manager. In other words, how to get Alex's bond back for him.

Michael de-webbed the living room, the porch and the outside air conditioning unit and swept the porch and courtyard. I cleaned around the stove knobs (again), pulled out three weeds, helped Michael move some bricks into a more obscure location next to a small outside shed. We mopped the feature wall in the main bedroom with a damp mop and used the same mop for the kitchen floor (again).

The property manager gave us the all clear, took back the keys and we were on our way. Next was Alex's new digs.He and Pascal (his support worker) had finished unpacking his boxes in his bedroom and cleaned the bathroom, toilet and floors in Alex's part of the house.

We prepared to check the boxes of kitchen items in the carport that were waiting to be loaded on the trailer. They were everywhere. I divided and conquered this task three ways. Stuff for the bin, stuff we could store and use and stuff to donate to Pascal's mate who needed a household of donated goods.

During this process, I turned into a human jack in the box. managing to be in at least two places at once. I was springing between the carport and the inside of the house, to sort out teething problems with the other young man's team leader, to have a joint meeting with her and Alex's team leader and finish the sorting in the garage. Eventually, I reduced the number of boxes to transport from six to two, Pascal was stoked with the haul for his friend and the two team leaders and I had begun the nitty gritty of Alex's successful transition.

As Michael and Pascal were loading the couches onto the trailer, an extremely startled redback spider was uncovered from his hiding spot and scuttled deeper into the trailer. What is it with spiders' attraction to Michael? Now we had an arachnoid hitch-hiker to contend with as well. The rest of the gear was loaded. Goodbyes were exchanged and we set off, gratefully, in the direction of Midland.

Food shopping, the purchase of some vital medicinal refreshments and a trip to Bunnings (naturally) were completed in record time. But by this time, we were both exhausted and I went on cooking strike.

We treated ourselves to pizza at Little Caesar's in Mundaring and unwound with a couple of glasses of vino. Then it was time fro the Final Push. We turned into the driveway at the House that Rocks in the dark...to be greeted enthusiastically by Sascha and Pip.

What the...? Where was the Beagle? Why were the other dogs out the front? Then the cat entered the fray, expressing her displeasure at the lateness of the hour. We went in search of answers.

The first clue was the wide open gate into the back yard. Oops! That had been a boo-boo perpetrated by Michael.

The second clue was a delighted Beagle surrounded by a snowstorm of hair confined within the living room and kitchen. I had inadvertently trapped Ruby on the wrong side of the dog barricade - with our two exceedingly comfortable couches. Not a dog who becomes perturbed easily, Ruby had made the best of being home alone and had managed to spread enough hair to knit a great coat from one end of the couches to the other and all over my vacuumed floor. Of course.

Once the couches had been returned to civility and we'd unpacked the shopping, we collapsed with a glass of two of exceedingly nice vino. And then we started laughing. What a day!

Postscript - the renegade redback was discovered still in the trailer the following morning. Michael took great delight in dispatching it from this world with one of my thongs.