Chasing Cracks.

And the renovation continues. Today is very warm and Michael's up on the scaffolding again. He is performing delicate surgery to repair the cracks and reinforce the walls, hopefully without causing demolition. He works on opening up the cracks, then drills into them at an angle, so that when he fills them with his magic goop, the whole wall will be held together like a completed jigsaw.

Let me illustrate...

These are some of the cracks (with Ruby). You may be able to see daylight.... 

filled cracks, with still naked crack and missing architrave....

note largish holes halfway up the wall ....

ooh, it's the same wall that Michael fixed the fireplace!

And so we wait and hope and pray that the wall will not crumble, that Michael will not end up in hospital, that the remainder of the restoration of Shop 4 will go smoothly and quickly with no reports or injuries.

Stay tuned for the next exciting installment...

A Tribute to Judy, with Love.

For Sandra, Michael and Darryl.

Judy was my mother-in-law. She died between three and half past three this morning. We were en route from Beverley. Darryl was part of a major reorganisation to get him on the morning chopper from offshore. Sandra was with Judy when she died in a brand spanking new room in the new Midland Hospital. She would have seen the irony.

We saw her about thirty minutes later. She looked beautiful. All her wrinkles had been smoothed out and her face was utterly relaxed like a sleeping baby. We took it in turns to hold her hand. Michael sat next to her and stroked her hair. She was still warm and soft. 

Judy had fought to stay alive for as long as possible. Secondary cancer riddled her body, but all she was frightened of was dying in pain.  Fortunately, her wish came true in the end. In the ambulance, she had an episode (heart attack?) and lapsed into unconsciousness. She knew nothing of her final time on earth. We hope she will carry the love that surrounded her in that dark little hospital room when she goes wherever we go.

Judy lived life to the full. She was feisty, opinionated, fearless, contrary and stubborn. She stuck to her guns, no matter what. She and Lucky adored each other. Why else would you live with someone for sixty years? They used to bicker frequently, openly, hilariously in front of anyone. Michael once remarked that they should behave, children, or go outside. They cheerfully ignored him.

I knew her for six years. And I loved her. But don't me wrong, she could be scathing and arbitrary in her criticism. I was on the receiving end of her tongue on a few occasions. Our relationship changed for the better when Michael and I married.  She was no fool and was able to recognise my unconditional love for her eldest son.

We dropped in on them on our way home from the Big Smoke a few weeks ago. She was at her inimitable best. She was still able to move around, albeit with breathlessness as her constant companion. Her sense of humour was as razor sharp as ever. 

Yesterday was supposed to be attending her usual hair appointment. As Lucky had been admitted to Murdoch Hospital for back surgery, Sandra couldn't take her, so they cancelled. She had been planning to have tonight at home in Stoneville on her own, insisting she could manage. Such was her courage.

Sandra helped her with her evening routine last night. She went to bed with coughing at about eight thirty. That eased at ten and Sandra went to bed. She woke Sandra with her bell, breathless, uncomfortable and in pain. Judy was unafraid of death; she was seeking it. She just hated the pain.

The ambulance arrived. The ambos spent time with her, monitoring her at home before they loaded her into the back of the vehicle. Sandra went to her home to try and find a copy of Judy's living will as she did not wish to be resuscitated. In the end, Sandra didn't need the document. Her spirit had flown whilst she was on the way to Emergency.

And so Sandra, Michael and I ended up in a room with our beloved mum and mother in law. The new hospital presented all sorts of wry difficulties as it has only been open for three days. We needed an escort from Emergency to the ward. The staff didn't know when the cafe opened. Nobody could tell us if we needed to pay for parking. We were quite disorientated having travelled through the bowels of the hospital at three o'clock in the morning.

We considered taking Judy with us for breakfast at Dome. Our senses of humour became quirkier. and quirkier Such is the nature of death.

Sandra was on her phone constantly, remarkably as she had slept very little. We drove with her to visit Lucky at Murdoch after we'd eaten. He was as high as a kite after his surgery, probably a good thing, considering the news we had to tell him. After a quick expletive, he was stoic. Like us, he was relieved her suffering was over.

We stayed with him for a couple of hours. By ten o'clock, we were all exhausted. We dropped Sandra back to her car at Midland Hospital and we headed for home. We arrived at midday and almost immediately fell into bed.

We woke after four. At least we felt human again. I felt a need to write this post. I wanted to honour Judy whilst my memories were still fresh.

I expect there will tears, laughter, intense conversation and offbeat humour over the next week or so. We will wait to have Judy's funeral until Lucky is able to attend. I hope her funeral will be a blast of love and sharing and respect.

Vale Judy. Love from Kate.

My favourite photo of Judy and Lucky on our wedding day.

Another Milestone for our Autistic Superstar.

Alex's life adventures have rarely been easy or uncomplicated. Diagnosed with a complex heart defect prior to birth, asthma at thirteen months, autism at four years three months and a mild intellectual disability in his teenage years, Alex has always faced adversity the only way he knows how - with cheerful determination. His fierce quest for independence has not been smooth sailing. He always attempts to sort out his challenges on his own before asking for assistance. This can manifest in disasters (rarely of his own making) that I then have to intervene and help him.

Alex never gives up.

He works at the Swan Friendship Cafe, volunteers at the Warehouse Cafe, has just completed a year of studies at the Perth Bible College, loves his church activities and has an active social life. Meaningful employment was a long time coming; a satisfactory place to live was just as long and often frustrating.

When Michael and I moved to Beverley, Alex went to live with his dad. That was less than successful and saw Alex leave in less than a year. Two home shares, the latter with a lunatic religious nutter who enjoyed tormenting Alex were not particularly jolly either. A month in Beverley with us whilst we searched. Rents were extortionate two and a half years ago, but we chose the best available. This unit was saved by an outdoor courtyard that doubled its living space. Alex managed the rent whilst his brother lived with him. Callum and his lady Bronwyn built their own place this year and the rent became unmanageable.

Homeswest was useless. The Priority Waiting List had blown out to five years - probably longer now. I would suggest anyone of the ordinary waiting list will die before public housing comes their way. Oh cynical me...

I thought a miracle had occurred when an old friend approached me to invite Alex to share a Community Access house with her son. There was to be a month's trial, but I was blissfully unconcerned. Alex moved to the other side of Perth, divested himself of the majority of his household belongings (to avoid duplication and confusion) and I set up extra support to ease him into his new environment. I really believed there would be no problems.

Two weeks into the month's trial, the family changed their minds. Alex didn't fit into their "vision" for their son. That was it. I was gobsmacked.

Against all odds, I  secured a one bedroom unit for him in under a week. Rents have reduced significantly and he can afford this one. He has returned to the suburb he knows, into a bright, spacious airy unit with his possessions around him and this is his own place. The owner is an investor, so further leases are on the cards. Dream realised.

We moved him yesterday. I had asked for donations for him on the Beverley, Buy, Sell and Notices Facebook page and was overwhelmed with generosity. I bought him some new items, for which he has reimbursed me. The local hardware store, Avon Trading, came on board and knocked ten percent off an already discounted pantry.

The only snag was purchasing a fridge. We had teed up a fridge in Bayswater. The sellers were not home, on two occasions. An incredibly helpful neighbour, a lady called Karin, came to our rescue and looked for another fridge on Gumtree for us. A wonderfully random act of kindness.

The fridge was duly sourced. Clifford and Maureen, the delightful couple selling it, even gave us a couple of soft drinks for the road. We had the fridge cleaned, positioned, switched on and functional in thirty minutes.

We were totally shattered at the end of the day. We dropped Alex off at his local shops to get dinner as we left the Big Smoke. We ate takeaway pizza on the way home. Two glasses of vino and I dropped gratefully into our bed.

What I will never forget is the sheer and unadulterated happiness on Alex's face as we left him to come home. Gold.

The living area, kitchen, door to his bedroom and a glimpse of his bathroom at Alex's new home...

Happiness is his mantra...

and this is his attitude to his life.

So proud of our boy (sorry Alex, young man around town!)

On Generosity.

The last couple of weeks have been a tad trying. And unexpectedly upsetting. Two separate situations that have left me shaking my head in disbelief.

Alex's hastened departure from what I hoped would be his "forever" home. The vicious encounter with the local proprietor who wanted no part of either the East End Gallery or our Christmas raffle.

The latter episode shook me badly. I am still recovering. Depression isn't a condition that copes well with unforeseen and unwarranted attack. I have felt myself slipping towards the abyss a few times and have fought my way back. I have to keep telling myself that this is nothing to do with me and everything to do with the other person.

And yet, in the midst of negativity has come kindness, understanding, love and encouragement. A cup of tea with supportive friends. The Beverley Newsagent's donation of our raffle ticket books.  a touch and a smile. My beloved Michael watching out for me and my welfare.

And an overwhelming response to my post on the Beverley Buy, Sell and Notices pages seeking gifts of household goods for Alex in his new bachelor pad.

We have been given a vacuum cleaner, a double boiler, a colander/ steamer, two rubbish bins, little teapots, an iron and an ironing board so far. I have also purchased him a fridge for under a hundred dollars from Gumtree. And the offers have kept coming. IF anyone out there has a pantry cupboard that is no longer needed, please let me know. That would be EVERYTHING on Alex's list.

We move Alex tomorrow and his future is looking much brighter. He is an absolutely charming young man (and no, I am not biased) and wants to live as independently as he can. And his unit will be filled with the generosity of others.

I am almost beyond words. That doesn't happen very often. Thank you all from the bottom of our hearts.

The three men in my life...

Alex and Adrienne at the Befriend Ball...

 and with Chris Della Bonna.

Feeling loved...

and wanting to tell you all.

Diverse Opinions to our Christmas Raffle.

Beverley is a small country town.  We have friendly people, interesting people, lonely people, angry people, accepting people, inclusive people and a range in between. This presents as a double-edged sword. In the Big Smoke, the sheer volume of people means that you may be unaware of any negative vibes. In Beverley, you may be more conversant with the residents, understand their foibles and avoid anyone who doesn't rock your boat.

Except when people change, for no apparent reason. Then pettiness, criticism, hurtful comments arise and leave me feeling vulnerable and violated.

Yesterday, I have a brainwave. Christmas is coming, I was considering a raffle to draw visitors into the East End Gallery, but I wanted to involve as many retail outlets as possible. Michael and I had been to a business breakfast this week, hosted by the Beverley Community Resource Centre and all attendees seemed to be on the same page to support and promote our local businesses.

I noted that a couple of shops up the street had launched a raffle between themselves. I thought that having another raffle, an inclusive raffle, a raffle that encouraged visitors and locals to engage with any number of shops was a positive move. So, I created our Christmas raffle.

The idea is that you still spend money in the East End Gallery to receive a raffle ticket to win a framed print. Every $50 spent in the Gallery would give you another raffle ticket. However, I extended the option of getting more raffle tickets in our raffle by demonstrating a $50 purchase at another shop in Beverley. I foolishly thought all the shops on the main drag would jump at the idea.

Most of them did. Most of them were delighted. I had produced a flyer explaining the parameters of the raffle. Multiple visits were allowed and if a resident or visitor came into the Gallery declaring they had spent $50 in another shop, I would be happy to give the second raffle ticket if they purchased from us as well.

One proprietor was not keen that I had produced the flyer before consultation. Fair enough. I received a dressing down and apologised. In the end, this person still decided to be part of our raffle, which was fine by us.

Another proprietor took my breath away. I have purchased a number of items from this particular outlet when I could have found similar items in the Big Smoke. I just decided the right thing to do was to Shop Local, if possible.

I will not quote what this person said to me. I have never experienced anything bordering on commercial hatred before I spoke to this proprietor. It was made crystal clear that this outlet did not want any connection with the East End Gallery or our raffle and would actively avoid informing any visitors about our Gallery.

Even though we have had this outlet's flyers in the Gallery.

Even though I have written complimentary articles about this person.

Even though I have promoted this outlet to our visitors.

Even though this person was at the business breakfast.

Comments? I am at a loss to understand this attitude and the hostility behind it.

Christmas Raffle @ the East End Gallery!

This is going to be a quickie - pardon the pun. I have the VIP evening starting at the Beverley Pharmacy in ten minutes and I'll be in like Flynn doing some Christmas shopping!

Which is the purpose of this post...Thinking about Christmas gifts? Wanting to get that special something? Want to be spoiled for price and choice?

We have over seventy individual art pieces in the East End Gallery, ranging from $10 to $4500.

And, as an added incentive, we are conducting our first annual  CHRISTMAS RAFFLE.

Spend $50 at the East End Gallery and get a ticket to go into the draw to win a limited edition framed print entitled "Still Life" valued at $300.

Show a receipt of $50 or more from the Beverley Newsagency, Lucky Find, U Beauty, All Things Beautiful, The Red Vault, the Country Kitchen, Sweet Pea's Treasures, Wares West, Avon Trading or the Beverley Pharmacy and receive a SECOND ticket for the East End Gallery's Christmas raffle.

The raffle will be drawn on Wednesday 23 December at 7.30pm. The winner will be notified by phone in time for Christmas!

AND THE WINNER IS....

this is the art piece that could be yours...

From Tragedy to Triumph!

I can't believe today is Friday again. Where has this week gone? Actually, I know exactly where this week has gone. Two long day trips to the Big Smoke, hours surfing real estate for rent pages, countless e-mails, much texting (I'm getting better with the evils of technology), four unit inspections, lots of phone calls and... a partridge in a pear tree (I threw that in for good measure as we're in the silly season - you sang along, didn't you?).

This time last week, my world was secure, known and predictable. That all changed on Sunday as Alex's might-have-been "forever" home vanished in an instant. I couldn't allow the shock and disbelief to derail me for long. Within a couple of hours, I had started the process of searching for a new home for my lad.

And unbelievably, my action has paid off. Swiftly. After seriously considering our options - contacting the Homeswest Priority Waiting List, which would have been a complete waste of time - Alex and I discussed his needs. He wanted his own one bedroomed unit,  with a year's lease initially and hopefully the option to renew until he crawls his way to the top of the Waiting List (we're not holding our breath).

Yesterday morning, I received a call from a new property manager that we had been successful in our application for our preferred unit. To say we were thrilled was the understatement of the century. Alex was stoked and I heaved a huge sigh of relief.

His unit is freshly painted, with new carpet, a reasonable kitchen (we will need to buy a pantry cupboard). a big bathroom, separate (!) loo, full security screens, a good sized bedroom and a pleasant outlook. Two bonuses are (this is Alex we're talking about) no air conditioning and a communal laundry with a coin operated washing machine.

The location is perfect. He'll be back in leafy Yokine, an area he knows well, close to his church and community garden and the gym.

So, Wednesday is moving day. We go back down the hill with his fridge, microwave, one couch, a smaller table and two dining chairs, sign the lease, pick up the keys and begin the unloading. In the meantime, I have organised extra support hours tomorrow to help him pack and move next week. Beth Mildenhall from UnitingCareWest has become my hero.

In the meantime, I have bought him a few essential items that he needs. I do expect him to pay me back (he doesn't know this yet!). And because we're broke as well, I have decided to accept any kind offers that we can organise for Alex.

The items he really needs are -

• a double boiler saucepan for his cooking
• another medium sized saucepan for meal preparation
• a functional vacuum cleaner - the head on his old one has given up the ghost and can't be replaced
• an ironing board - the current one is about to collapse!
• possibly an iron - if we can't get his old one back as we gave it away
• a single door pantry cupboard - you know the type (melamine and not flash)
• a kitchen bin with lid
• a smallish working fridge with a freezer

Please contact me via this blog or PM me on Facebook if you can help with any of the above items.

Our autistic superstar is about to have his own digs!

Oh goody...

we're informing you...

to watch out for us on Wednesday!

Our East End Gallery Brochure

116 Vincent Street

Beverley

Open:

Thursday – Sunday

Public Holidays

11am -5pm

Other times by appointment

www.eastendgallery.com.au

or

“Like” us on Facebook

Three and a half years in the making, Michael and Kate Sofoulis are delighted to welcome visitors to the East End Gallery, within the Forbes building, between the War Memorial and the Pharmacy in the centre of town.

The Forbes Building is still a work in progress. We are delighted to share the building and her restoration with our guests.

If you see the art piece of your dreams in our window, please feel free to ring us out of opening hours and we will happily arrange to open the gallery at a mutually convenient time.

Our numbers are –

0414 255 781 (Kate)

0400 373 822 (Michael)

PS we are family friendly.

Around the Bay for a Bob

Yesterday was one of those days. After the shock of discovering that Alex's stay in the new house was not to be, I had to swing into action. I spent most of Sunday night and Monday chasing units available for rent. I ended up with four definite properties to view on Tuesday and another two possibilities.

I set off at a quarter to ten for a full day. Michael was on his own for dinner. Thankfully we had leftovers. I had no idea when I would be home.

The first unit in Yokine looked promising. The second unit in Yokine was near a major road and would have been too noisy. I stopped for lunch at Bravo's where Callum was working. Pate and toast and a glass of vino revived me for the rest of the day. I picked up Alex, explained the situation to him, slowly and patiently, and set off for our third unit. His reaction was astonishingly reasonable. I swelled with pride at his acceptance of the situation.

The rain had started to bucket down. The third unit was tiny. Forget it. We decided to stop at one of the real estate agents and submit an application for the first unit. The was completed with surprising ease. Off to our last viewing of the day. We canned the arrival of the real estate agent due to the scattered rubbish, the overwhelming odour de cat pee and burnt out exhaust fans on the building.

Then we crawled down the freeway to pick up an overnight bag for Alex so he could come to Beverley with me. Stop start stop start. We eventually pointed Goldie east at nearly six o'clock.

In my exhaustion, my sense of direction went pear shaped. Finding myself on the vast interchange named the Gateway, I arrived unexpectedly at the international airport. Bugger. I retraced my steps, prayed and eventually headed in more or less the right direction again. Peak hour was at full throttle. All I wanted to do was find our way home.

The rain became a deluge going up Greenmount Hill. I found myself travelling through the forest in the dark. My senses were on heightened alert. I hoped all the kangaroos were being sensible and remaining under shelter and not on the road.

I was pathetically grateful to reach the bright lights of Beverley. We pulled into the House that Rocks just after eight.

And now we wait to see if our rental application is successful. If not, we start all over again.

Round and round the garden...

where the hell am I?

my impression of the Gateway (it probably wasn't that bad!)

If It Seems Too Good to be True...

The last few days have been rather torrid. Serves me right, though. I had become altogether too smug for my own good. Just as all appeared to be going smoothly for the Beverley Hillbillies and our family, the sticky brown stuff chose a collision course towards an electric cooling device.

We had also been congratulating ourselves on fewer trips to the dreaded Big Smoke. Once again, this is going to change. Once again, through no fault of ours, circumstances have conspired to produce a change of direction when we least expected it.

For those who read my posts, you may have been aware that Alex had moved house to share with another young disabled man. We were aware that this was meant to be a month's trial, so I set up extra support to help Alex transition into the new environment. The lure of reduced rent and the possibility of a forever home for Alex had been too good an opportunity to pass up.

We never dreamt that we would not be able to make this situation work. Alex is really an easy going personality - cheerful, respectful, enthusiastic, eager to please. As far as he was concerned, the move had been positive; he was settling in and enjoying his developing relationship with the young man, his family, the carers and the house.

We had been asked by the family to agree to certain requirements. That the house was the other young man's was made, repeatedly, very clear on a number of occasions. Alex's personal belongings were cut to the bare minimum, so there would be no confusion as to whose was whose. Fair enough. And then Alex was told to find alternative accommodation for two weeks whilst some family were away and others moved into the house. A bit awkward, but he managed to source a bed at another young man's house.

Alex moved into the house, unpacked, sorted his room and then had to leave for the two weeks. We had arranged that the extra support would start when he moved back, so any issues could be solved before they became major disasters. Michael and I still had full confidence that there were no untenable problems.

So, he'd been in the new house for two weeks, away for two weeks, then back for twenty-four hours when all hell broke loose. The mum sent me a personal message, explaining that Alex was not the housemate they were looking for, that their son was no longer excited by Alex's presence and that Alex wasn't part of their vision for their son.

I was stunned, devastated and bamboozled. I sent a very carefully worded e-mail back, asking very specific questions, hoping to salvage the situation. In my opinion, they hadn't given Alex a fair trial and the extra support that was supposed to circumvent any problems was about to start.

I am at a loss to know what the family wanted in a housemate for their son. My questions have not been answered. They spoke of the vision, of a housemate to share their son's life and to participate in his activities. Slowly, another possibility came to the surface. The need for a night carer had been identified.

Alex had been very proud of his efforts in "helping" with the young man's care. Yet the family had made it clear Alex was not his carer. Okay. So, Alex's role in the house became fuzzier and fuzzier. Until the bombshell.

I had been foolish. the longed for "forever" home, that had been dangled tantalisingly in front of us was not to be. The family insisted the decision was not personal. Alex just hadn't fitted into their vision for their son.

Yet, I don't believe they understand the impact of all of their decisions. Alex had divested himself of many of his cooking and kitchen items as there would have been duplication. We had brought his fridge, his table and chairs and his couches back to Beverley. Other belongings had been given away as we thought that they would no longer be needed. Alex now had no home, few household goods and the realisation that his presence was no longer desired in the house.

And I had to explain to him that he wasn't part of the vision. That he was an amiable young man who had done nothing wrong, but he was a bit on the nose. That the decision had been made with no consultation with us or him.

And I can't help feeling we have been used in an experiment, so they could work out what kind of housemate they actually wanted. At Alex's expense. I feel like he has been chomped up and then spat out. And we went along for the ride.

I get that the family think Alex is an all around good guy and that they believe they have done nothing wrong. I remember the last time Alex was excluded from participating with no valid reason. Back in primary school, he was asked to leave the school choir whilst the rest of the children performed at an eisteddfod. Then the teacher invited him back into the choir. Alex, after thinking, declined her offer.

We have been fighting exclusion all Alex's life. I understand that the other family feel they are striving to give their son a fulfilling, stimulating and inclusive life. And in doing so, they have inadvertently orchestrated Alex to be excluded from a possible long term home.

The mum has expressed a wish to remain friends. That is a curly proposition. I am feeling rather ambivalent at the moment...

Alex in groove mode at the BeFriend Ball

A Tale of Two Artists

This morning has seen two artists introduce their pieces into the East End Gallery.

One of our artists has been with us from the beginning - Denese Borlini whose "Moon Rising" captivated one of our visitors the minute she saw the painting. Denese, born in what was Rhodesia, manages to weave the African and the Australian aspects of her life into her artwork. "Moon Rising" was inspired by Lake Kariba. And then Denese has three other wonderful paintings that reflect her Australian identity. Last but not least, she has produced a garden art horse out of a tyre that is quintessentially of our bush.

Denese's new works return to her African theme. "Water Gatherers" and "Market Day" are two exquisite pastels and chalk little pieces depicting everyday life in Africa. Bursting with colour and boldness, deceptively simple and beautifully conceived, these lovely pictures would add a vibrancy and sheer delight to any home.

Our newest artist, Miss Ava from Narembeen, spent a very happy half hour assisting Michael with spider production - she was magnet quality control - and producing two little creations out of our "please touch" collectables plate. When I admired the end results of her labour, I commented that she could be an artist when she grew up. Miss Ava replied very seriously that she wanted to be a scientist. Alas! Science's gain and art's loss.

As she left with Mum Jodie, I was delighted that Miss Ava appeared to be keeping her options open. She chose two colouring in sheets to take home...

"Water Gatherers"

"Market Day"

Miss Ava's art pieces

Ava's Abstract 1

Ava's Abstract 2

To view these and all our other pieces, please feel free to wander into the East End Gallery.

PS we've just had a life-saving thunderstorm that has dropped the temperature by about 10 degrees!

Finally Taming the Monster...!

In the Beginning was the Fireplace at the back of Shop 4, which looked like this...

And Michael was Troubled, as He was Over Renovating. So He Spat the Dummy for a couple of weeks. Then He Resigned Himself to Continue the Project...

With Help...

And so with (Almost) Divine Intervention by Gary and Simon, The New Floor was Nearly Completed and Work on the Bloody Fireplace begun...

So, Michael Built the Hearth and saw It was Good...

And Started Work on the Beast's Appalling Jaw, Outside...

And Inside the Fearsome  Mouth

And Michael turned into an Exceedingly Ingenious Master Dentist; Man who was Concerned about Bricks Causing Concussion worked Diligently and Carefully...

Thus, the Monster that used to be an Exceedingly Dreadful Fireplace has been Transformed. The Dentist Smiled with Relief. But, He Never, Ever Wants to Tackle Another Fireplace Reno AGAIN!

It's a Small World After All...

I am continually astonished at the ties that bind us. Forget about six degrees of separation. I believe that it is more like two degrees of separation here in Heavenly Beverley.

Take today for example. After a great afternoon in the East End Gallery, we welcomed a couple, both artists, who were on the lookout for a house right here in our town. Then, after commenting on the marvellous Mandy Evans' art pieces, it turned out that they were old friends of  Mandy, had started an artists' cooperative with her in Dunsborough and knew Michael's cousin Nick Sofoulis...get out of here!

They came and inspected the House that Rocks. They liked our home a lot and it was within their price range. They promised to keep in touch. And they loved the workshop at the back of the East End Gallery. *whispers* I think they'd like to play there with Michael!

So, we are shaking our heads in disbelief. This is an unexpected series of connections. And whether they do or don't make the House that Rocks their home, we know that, sooner or later, somebody will fall in love with our place and allow our dreams to come true.

Michael - Dentist Extraordinaire to the Fireplace (and other superstars....)

The renovation of the fireplace in the back of the last forty-five square metres of the East End Gallery has been going on and on and on...and on...

Michael has been hard at work trying to ressurect the brickwork of the fireplace for a number of weeks now. This involves painstakingly removing one dodgy brick at a time, replacing with a whole brick, using wedges to keep it in place and the mortar it into position. All whilst hoping the bloody wall doesn't come down on him.

We have now entered a delicate part of the operation. The fireplace, seriously, looks like it is having major dental work done on its shattered "mouth". This archway is decorated with a series of deteriorating bricks, so Michael is carefully undertaking surgery very slowly indeed.

Not bad for a bloke who spat the dummy last month and declared he was OVER renovation and was just going to cover the offending fireplace with a false moustache and funny glasses. Renovating is rather like childbirth. He had a break and forgot just how much it can degenerate into infuriatingly painful farce.

We have finally discovered the cause of the rash that has been targetting him as Typhoid Michael. He has developed an allergy to lime mortar dust, which he has been merrily drilling out and replacing with fresh mortar. We only twigged when he pulled on a dirty pair of work trousers and found himself covered in red spots all over his body within minutes. he was horrified as he has never been a dirty fellow. Michael spends a vast amount of time in the shower on a daily basis making himself beautiful. Except when we're camping. And then, he doesn't get spots for days!

The work goes on. I have swept and dusted the Gallery, again, today as the fine particles from the lime mortar travels and covers everything. Even my EFTPOS terminal had to be cleaned.

Another day and we inch closer to the completion of the building's renovation. I have been in the Gallery since 11.30 and it is now 6.30 in the evening. Michael has gone home, showered and changed his clothes. He looks bloody handsome...

And I have declined the opportunity to cook dinner. The House that Rocks is tidy and we have another Home Open tomorrow at 11.30 am. So, we are about to nip across the road to the Red Vault and have Debbie cook for us instead. And we have a bottle of vino to have as well. Bliss!

Stay tuned for the next thrilling episode. And come and see us in the East End Gallery. Or at our Home Open. Or both!

The evolution of the fireplace...

with construction of the floor..

ooh, a flat base and a hearth...

may the dental work begin!

Holy cavity, Batman...

and another view...

and another...

ooh, closeup with appalling front teeth...

the dentist at work today.