Riding Along on my Pushbike, Honey...

Yesterday was another colossal day at the East End Gallery. Fortunately, the temperature had dropped from "holy cow!" to slightly more bearable. Michael had spent the previous day (a mere 41.8) welding metal gizmos to his sculptural creation. The purpose of these devices was for secure mounting and to hold the sculpture off the wall to enhance shadows. When I just asked Michael what these thingamajigs were called, he looked blank and responded, "something I made up". That's my darling - mind of a genius, vocab of a Beverley Hillbilly!

Anyway, I've digressed. Michael finished his welding on Saturday looking like a large blob of melted sweat. I wasn't far behind him. An evening swim restored our equilibrium and galvanised us for a Big Effort.

Michael and Gary (the Dynamic Duo) had plans to attach our four-metre sign to the external wall and then position the sculptural pieces underneath the sign. This involved building the scaffolding, manoeuvring the recalcitrant platform on its unwilling wheels up the bitumen, heaving it onto the verge next to the building and then actually starting the task at hand.

By the time I arrived at the Gallery at a quarter to eleven, the sign was up. At exactly the same moment, our latest artist, Shirley Gillis arrived with husband Rod, daughter Karlene and her hubby Wayne to unload ten new paintings into the Gallery. They'd had a short drive down from Geraldton (about four hundred kilometres!).

Enthusiasm was carrying the project. The shadows were disappearing in their workspace. A cool breeze was all that was between them and the approaching sun. Just as the last of the shade shrunk to nothing, the boys completed the job. And these two are both sixty-year-old blokes!

There was no rest for the wicked. With the advent of Shirl's paintings, Michael constructed two new picture rails adjoining our Art Space. Then he hung pictures in the Gallery, whilst I worked on the new catalogue. We never even started on the re-arrangement of the Giftshop.

We both crawled home, absolutely shattered. I had already decided our kitchen would be closed due to illness - I was sick of cooking...We had a delightful dinner at the Red Vault with Charmaine and Debbie. Delicious food - and no dishes.

Today is a new day in the East End Gallery!

PS the title of this post was inspired by "The Pushbike Song"....

In the Beginning, was the Sign...

Re-inventing the wheel...

The Dynamic Duo in full flight...

Notice the disappearing shade...

Finished in the nick of time!

The completed effect...

with lengthening shadows...

throughout the afternoon.

Bloody awesome job, boys!

The Countdown has Begun.

Our Expansion Exhibition is twenty days away. And counting. We are gearing up to our best exhibition ever. Our guests will have so much choice.

The Giftshop is already overflowing with more art pieces coming. The Gallery is still not quite to her full glory, but that is about to change. New artwork is arriving on an almost daily basis.

So, here's a sneak peak of the East End Gallery yesterday....

Watch this space.

Spreading the Love Around.

Living in a small rural town can be quite insular. The fact that Beverley is only one of dozens of small rural towns in the Wheatbelt is easily forgotten. We stick to our own neighbourhood, our own main street and our own sphere of influence.

Today I decided to change all that. Almost twelve months ago, a lovely guest to the East End Gallery, Linda Boliver, wandered out with a garden art horse under her arm. As she had small grandchildren, she thought this would be a great toy for them to play on. Giddy up, horsie!

I did not immediately click that Linda is Rob Bain's partner. Rob is one of our local painters ( in and out of houses and buildings) and he saved our bacon at the end of 2011. Desperate to present the House that Rocks well to family and friends, Rob painted our living room and kitchen just prior to Michael and me tying the knot.

We met them again about six weeks ago at the top pub. We enjoyed a marvellous meal, with vino, laughter and conversation flowing easily. After that night, I discovered Linda was also the proprietor of Nail and Beauty Salon in beautiful downtown Brookton.

A major catastrophe was brewing this morning. I had completely forgotten that I was going to lunch at the Mahogany Inn to celebrate Larissa's birthday. OMG, I looked like something the cat had dragged through the fence backwards.

Disaster was averted. I rang Linda, who had a spare spot in her afternoon appointments. Whew. At half past two, she went to work. The result was wonderful. Whilst, I will never resemble a model, being a short and round girl, Linda removed as much of the Ugly Duckling from me that was possible. I came out looking presentable!

She volunteered to have our poster for the Expansion Exhibition in the salon. That offer and a lovely little sample bag for new clients decided my next move. I rebooked with Linda for just prior to the Expansion Exhibition, so she can work more of her magic. And for my birthday, I might even spoil myself with a facial...

Brookton hadn't finished with me yet. I visited the delightful Marlese and her daughter Gabriella in the Brookton CRC. She was most enthusiastic about the Expansion Exhibition and was eager for more information. I promised to e-mail her the information. and she kindly gave me a contact at the Brookton Shire. A great and unexpectedly pleasant afternoon.

I drove home very pleased with my excursion. I have decided that this was a message from God. Time to spread my wings and make sure I visit other Wheatbelt towns. And spread the love.

Nail and Beauty Salon, Brookton.

Linda Boliver, beautician and saviour.

Brookton CRC.

Stepping Up a Gear.

We had, quite illogically, hoped for a quieter day on the home front. Yeah right. We had an inspection of the House that Rocks at 1 pm, so the house had to be as clean as possible and the Three Stooges Removed from the Scene.

Once again, the Beagle was the cause of annoyance this morning. Standing on our back verandah, I spotted the naughty little dog outside our yard and on her way to Timbuktu. Upon calling, she trotted back quite amiably, entering through an excavation worthy of an Academy Award for cunning and perseverance. I looked at her with an exasperated expression and she returned my gaze, as innocent as ever. She really is as thick as two short planks. She honestly was confused when I tied her up without a word.

Difficulty to engage was a major issue this morning. I reluctantly left my chair to begin bringing the house to order. Romola came over for a welcome distraction. Michael departed with the canine fools, as did Romola. Suddenly, I only had an hour to finish the housework and have a shower.

I moved like a shower of sparks. The only task I didn't finish was putting away the washing, so I hid the basket next to our bed out of sight. As per usual, the inspection was over before we had a chance to draw breath and we were left, slightly deflated. At least, they turned up and looked at the house.

I returned home, picked up the vacuum cleaner and returned to the Gallery. I cheered up immediately. The Gallery Giftshop is looking fabulous and we have more stock to come. Beverley V has delivered her felt hats, a beautifully warm vest and a delicious silk and felt wrap and scarf - red, of course.

Bespoke Ceramics have added more pieces to the display case, which is now bulging with exquisite and quirky examples of their art.

And Peter Pickering, friend and photographer, has brought in some old framed prints featuring polo scenes.

I had a long and pleasing phone call with Geraldton artist, Shirley Gillis. Shirl, as she prefers to be known, was previously very active in the Beverley arts scene. Now she and her husband are preparing to build a house in Beverley and we are fortunate enough to be gaining some of her paintings in time for the Expansion Exhibition.

Finally, we are launching a brand new initiative, especially for our younger guests. Bespoke ceramics have provided little bisque packs of animals, birds, frogs, teddies and cottage figures. For minimal cost, kids are welcome to buy a pack or packs and sit to decorate their treasures at the rear of the Giftshop. The East End Gallery will be offering the paint, the brushes and the work table for a small charge or paint packs are available to take home for only five dollars. So whilst mums and dads are browsing in the Gallery or the Giftshop, the kids will be happily creating their own artwork.

We keep hearing about new artists, which is fantastic. We seem to have hit the artistic pot of gold in this part of the Wheatbelt.

Roll on to the Expansion Exhibition!

There are times the Beagle would try the patience of a saint!

The front garden spring 2015

Beverley V creations

more Beverley V designs

Bespoke Ceramics chess board and men.

Any girl's fantasy

More pieces by Bespoke Ceramics

Polo print

Another polo print.

See you all soon here in the East End Gallery.

Lunch with Madame Cat.

Today was one of our epic days in the Big Smoke. We had an additional passenger aboard Kermit the  4WD. Ruby the cat, who is the worst street fighter on the planet, was sporting impressive pieces of fur and skin missing from her neck. We think she may have had an encounter with Bailey, one of Lorna's cats. Bailey is built like a Sherman tank and thinks our home is in his territory. He could have beaten up Ruby with one paw tied behind his back.

The morning did not begin well. Michael caught a glimpse of Ruby the dog disappearing into the neighbouring yards. He was relaxing on the back verandah enjoying his morning cigarette when he was forced to bellow like a bull at the rear end of a recalcitrant Beagle. I told him this was a message from God!

So, we hurtled out of the House that Rocks at ten-thirty. We no longer have a cat carrier so used the dog carrier instead. Hilarious. A four-kilo cat in a cage the size of a condominium.

We didn't get far...Stopped at the shops to pick up cheques that needed to be deposited in the bank and Michael's old Metal Moments sign that was to receive a new decal - "EAST END ART GALLERY" courtesy of the Sign Supermarket in Midvale. I snaffled a muffin and a can of lemonade as breakfast to eat in the car.

Diesel in Beverley. Dealing with lunatics on the York - Perth road. I could feel Michael's blood pressure rising. The cat yowled all the way from Beverley to the vet's....

First stop was the vet. I entered with Ruby in her enormous carrier. There were only three other patients waiting. Brilliant. One visitor to the waiting room was Rupert, a large nondescript dog, related to a horse but with a beautiful nature, intrigued by Ruby. Rupert's mum had forgotten a lead for him, so he was sporting a pink little girl's handbag as an impromptu leash. Ruby gave him a steely gaze, unimpressed by his obvious affection.

Michael and I swapped so I could go to the bank to present the cheques. I needed these cheques to be deposited before a quarter to one to cover a loan repayment. After ten minutes in the queue, I made it to the teller. I explained the situation, she accepted the cheques and informed me I'd have to ring the Bank to avoid the payment being dishonoured. I immediately hopped on the bank phone to speak to someone, anyone who could help me. Twenty minutes later (after a detour to Credit Cards) I was talking to the right person in the right section. She was lovely. I was very, very stressed. She made my problem go away. And she promised to send an e-mail to the branch about some unhelpful (non) assistance from the staff.

Back to the vet. Michael and Ruby were waiting. No abscess but antibiotics for a week for Ruby. Oh goody. This promised to be a fun seven days.

The sign was ready so we trotted back to the Sign supermarket. The boys there, Tom and Jayden, had done a brilliant job. Both computer nerds, I was highly amused by their reticence about using Facebook. They recognised Facebook as a necessary evil to promote their business, so still didn't like it much. And here was I, a computer Luddite, who actually was more comfortable with Facebook than a couple of highly computer savvy blokes.

We needed lunch. Madame Cat joined us at Dome Midland. Another couple thought this was pretty funny. Ruby was the star attraction at Dome for the day.

Shopping and more shopping. We stopped for a cuppa with Lucky. Ruby joined us for afternoon tea at Stoneville. She stared stonily at us from inside the carrier. A look that could curdle milk...

Home just before six. We let a delighted cat out of the car. She sauntered to the end of the verandah, gave us a withering expression and leapt off into the garden.

She has been in and out about a dozen times this evening. When she was quiet and settled on the couch next to Michael, we decided to take courage in hand and give her the first antibiotic. I completely the task without injury. Michael was clawed for his efforts.

This operation will have to be endured and repeated another thirteen times. We can hardly wait....

Madame showing displeasure...

in a superior position to the Three Stooges...

and impersonating Hovercat.

10 Things I Hate...(or at least not like much)

Today was somewhat trying. I endured frequent, unwelcome interruptions. Not that I was actually doing anything particularly important. After the flurry of another weekend in the East End Gallery, I was having a well-deserved slob day. So, I was pottering between housework and reading. In my pyjamas. Bliss.

Michael came home for lunch. He was tired so chose to have a lie down after eating. He was asleep in about thirty seconds. Then another interruption. I was forceful to the perpetrator. Peace was restored for the rest of the day.

I was reminded of the movie "10 Things I Hate About You" loosely based on "The Taming of the Shrew". Which caused me to ponder my own personal dislikes and wonder if many others shared these. I look forward to reading your comments to either confirm I have legitimate grievances or am as mad as a cut snake.

So, in no particular order, here are 10 of my pet hates -

• eggplant - the texture is akin to exceedingly stout walking boots, the colour is an unpleasant shade of purple and the preparation is tedious and time-consuming. And the texture remains alarmingly similar to tough leather, even after cooking.
• Brussel sprouts - I must admit I once had soup where Brussel sprouts were the principal ingredient and the concoction was reasonably tasty. However, if I imagine Brussel sprouts, I can only picture the pale, boiled-to-death cannonballs my mother used to present as a vegetable. The smell was awful, but eating them was worse.
• early visitors - this is a tricky one. I enjoy people turning up at the House that Rocks. Most of our friends know that if they arrive without notice, Michael and I may well be in a state of undress. However, if I've invited friends for a meal, I am never ready early. Those who dare will witness my interpretation of a headless chook. You have all been warned.
• bras - I loathe this element of clothing. In hot weather, sweat gathers in pools in the bottom of my bra and eventually trickles down my tummy when the dam bursts. They are never comfortable and the straps always end up halfway down my arms. One of the advantages of living in a country town is that I only wear a bra if I'm going to be in genteel company.
• the position of the toilet roll - there is only one way to position the toilet roll - outwards.
• wee on the floor in front of the toilet - blokes, for God's sake, just aim correctly. If you can't control Percy, sit down on the seat. I always end up standing in unmentionable drips. Yuk.
• boulders in the bed - I admit this. I have become slack about bed making over the last few years and often, the bed is exactly the same as when we reluctantly rose in the morning. However, Madame Cat is responsible for leaving sand and dirt in the bed. In due course, I feel like I'm a character in "The Princess and the Pea". What appears to be a log under my shoulder blades inevitably turns out to be the size of a flea. The resulting angst means the sheets will be shaken out at the very least or changed if deemed Beyond a Joke.
• Dog pooh on Sascha's bedding - this is always the result of the Beagle's revolting habits. She is a total witch, bringing aged morsels into the dog bunk beds which she enjoys in Sascha's bed, not her own. I am always furious at Ruby, but anger is completely wasted on her. Ruby is as thick as two short planks.
• The current Australian government - self-explanatory.

And last not definitely not least -

• Bloody call centres - we were rung repeatedly on the landline today. I know the operatives are not to blame. They are only doing their jobs. I blame the government (see above) for outsourcing so many services. When I am talking to a person called "Elaine" in the Philippines about living in a small rural town, they just do not get it. How can they? This afternoon, when Michael was asleep, I'd had enough. Picking up the phone, for the fifth time, waiting for the pause, I then blasted the person of the other end. "Go away, my husband is sick". A lie, I admit, but justified in my opinion. Silence reigned after that call.

I feel much better now. Venting spleen is a useful exercise. I eagerly await pet hates of anyone who reads this post. Don't be shy. Let rip!

Call Centre 1

Call centre 2

My reaction this afternoon

Then blessed silence.

The Time of Our Lives

Yesterday, I watched a video of "Dirty Dancing" featuring the extraordinary Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey, all the way from 1987. Whilst I mourn the loss of this wonderful dancer and actor, he has left a joyful and uplifting legacy. I challenge anyone to watch "(I've Had) the Time of My Life" dance sequence and not smile.

Which started me thinking. Michael and I have had the time of our lives over the last seven years. We've had our struggles, we've had sadness and happiness, we've been hurt, we've been angry. We've laughed and cried and looked out for each other.

We've had three theme songs. "Loveshack" was played as the prelude to our wedding, "Miss Sarajevo" illustrated the siege we felt we'd endured to stay together and "It's a Wonderful World" was the celebration to herald our continuing partnership.

Ten years ago, I had been separated from my first husband for twelve months. If I'd looked into a crystal ball and seen myself as I am now, the curator of a country art gallery, I'd have shaken my head in disbelief. As for living with the gentle, tolerant and creative man that Michael is, I used to pinch myself for the first few years we were together. Meeting the love of my life at forty-seven was not on my agenda at all.

This morning, Michael proved, once more, that he is the sexiest man alive.We are still trying to sell the House that Rocks and the floors were disgusting. I asked Michael if he'd vacuum whilst I opened up the Gallery. Which he did. That is my test of an awesome husband!

We've had plenty of guests on this lovely summer afternoon. Needless to say, the finishing touches are still proceeding. Michael has just about finished putting up the last hanging rails in the Gallery section. Most people are highly amused when I explain we have had the Gallery in the middle of a renovation site for the last fourteen months.

I am bopping along to Boz Scaggs. Michael thinks my taste in music is questionable at present. I've just smiled at him cheerfully and totally ignored his opinion. Later, I have no doubt I will be listening to his questionable taste in music.

And that is the key to our happiness. We work as a team, but we allow each other freedom. We share so many common interests, but we may not actually be together whilst pursuing those activities. When we are in the Gallery, we have different roles. When we go bush, we often wander off separately, whilst still being aware of each other's presence. At home, we share some responsibilities, but there is definitely some demarcation. Michael will not let me paint, mow the lawn or whipper snip. He mutters about me glueing the window shut and makes some excuse that I'll chop my leg off if I use implements with blades...

He quite openly prefers for me to be front of house at the Gallery. Social media, our website and producing letters or posters are all parts of my domain. And I certainly couldn't do what he does. There would undoubtedly be nasty consequences if I had a bash at welding...

The metal artist and chief renovator has put his feet up out the back and is having a beer. I am considering opening the bar...who am I kidding? I have just poured myself a lovely glass of vino.

All is well in our world. We are having the time of our lives.

How I feel...

through the archway to the Giftshop ( with new picture rail)...

into the Gallery...

from the front to the back of ninety square metres...

The Beverley Hillbillies having the time of our lives.

An Eventful Few Days

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...I was expecting Alex, our autistic superstar. This pregnancy was Not Planned. The ex and I already had Vanessa and Callum, after a series of obstetric misadventures. Neither of us took the ultimate step to prevent another baby. The result was Alex.

I was secretly thrilled. This was going to be the baby who would cause me no trouble, be a bonus to the other two children. I ventured the idea to my GP that I could deliver in a suburban hospital. After he stopped laughing, he referred me to King Edward Memorial Hospital, the major women's hospital in Perth. For women like me...

Waiting for the ante-natal clinic one day, I was approached by a research assistant and asked if I wanted to be part of a longitudinal study, following babies born in 1989 - 1992 until adulthood. In for a penny, in for a pound. Why not?

The Raine Study has been a small, but significant part of Alex's life. He's been measured, poked, tested and watched for all of his almost twenty-five years. We've filled in countless questionnaires and attended multiple appointments.

Then came a phone call out of the blue. Would I participate in a sleep study? All of the Raine Study parents were being asked. I so didn't want to do this. Any night away from home is a major logistical exercise.So I threw obstacles. They would have to accommodate Michael. No problem. What about food? They would feed us. The enthusiastic booking officer insisted we could follow our normal evening routine. Which included vino. Bring your wine with you, she said.

I agreed. We organised our wonderful friend, Larissa to dog sit and house sit. We arranged to meet Callum for an early lunch, go to the movies in the afternoon and then arrive at the sleep study. We decided to treat this as a mini holiday.

Tuesday started badly. The Beagle brought pooh into the laundry and smeared it all over the floor. Give me strength. We left, more or less, on time and headed down West Talbot Road. We had completely forgotten the road was closed for bridgeworks. Bugger.

We backtracked to York and turned onto the Perth road. No speed signs. Michael was doing 70. The police lights caught us by surprise. Speeding fine. Not knowing the speed limit was legitimate but not lawful. $100 fine. Ouch...

Onward and upward. We met Callum without further incident. Lunch was enjoyed and our conversation was witty and lively. We chose a couple of bottle of vino for the evening. Callum was determined to educate me in the intricacies of depositing cash through an ATM. I reluctantly agreed to the lesson. Two days later, the money has still not appeared in our account....

Onto the picture theatre. Next disaster. The phone message had lied. Our desired movie was not going to be showing at the advertised time. We now had two hours to kill on a very hot afternoon. *sigh*

We drove down to the foreshore at Matilda Bay. I was tempted to have a nap. Instead, we had a drink each and read the paper. At four o'clock, we headed for the sleep study half an hour early.

The air-conditioning was incredibly welcome. We brought in our gear. First unpleasant surprise. I could not drink any alcohol. So much for my normal evening routine. There was no television. And I was not permitted to use my computer. Also part of my normal evening routine.

I was coping with these rules. After all, this was a research project. I was proud to be participating. A full body scan, eye testing and photographing and sensory testing followed. Then came the last test. A cognitive test that was lightly mentioned to be difficult.

I was asked how I was feeling prior to the test. Odd...

The test was horrible. I have difficulties with memory testing and this reduced me to tears. My self-esteem shot to zero. I was ready to bail. Michael and Vanessa were the only reasons I persevered. Dinner, then being wired for sound. My skin was scrubbed where the sensors would be placed. then alcohol was applied, which stung. The tubes around my ears were too tight. Come two o'clock in the morning, these had to be moved due to rubbing and pain.

An awful night. The computer calculated I slept about fifty percent of the time I was in bed. I was shattered in the morning. I gave blood and lots of feedback.

The day improved as soon as we left the sleep study premises. I had a message from Radio West requesting an interview about our East End Gallery. We collected barfy burgers, pigs' ears and chicken tenders from Pet Meat supplies and went to catch our movie. Hopefully.

Eureka. We were in the Greater Union theatre in Morley at ten o'clock. "The Force Awakens" was two hours of total escapism. We loved every second of it.

Fuel, vino and Bunnings. We stopped to look at the house Michael built in Darlington.  I persuaded Michael to join me to go to the front door. Ronna, the homeowner, allowed us to come inside. The house was an echo of Michael. There were some brilliant features. But most of the house was no longer my husband. I was still pleased we'd seen it. Michael was able to put more ghosts to rest.

Home. Larissa and Shiloh to greet us. Enough food to feed the Fifth Battalion. Again. We gave her a bottle of champers as a thank-you present. She'd even prepared the House that Rocks for inspection and removed four dogs to the oval for half an hour. What a woman!

Dinner with Larissa and Mac. Silly DVD. Vino. I slept so well. Only woke at five o'clock to have a wee. That was my normal routine.

Lazy morning. Caught up with e-mails, Facebook and accounts. Arranged to meet with Kaz, a Voice of the Avon presenter at four o'clock. E-mailed Radio West in Merredin to set up an interview there about the gallery. Really excited.

House cleaning for several hours. Into the East End Gallery at four o'clock. We spent a very pleasant time showing Kaz the Gallery and organised an advertisement for Voice of the Avon. We sealed the agreement with a hug.

Tonight has been a treat. The heat of the day has gone. Larissa had provided leftovers for dinner. We have eaten chicken and salad and drunk beautiful vino. The dogs are fed, the cat is grouchy and the parrot has gone to sleep.

All is well in our world.

First snag...

then speeding fine...

lies about movie sessions...

melting at Matilda Bay...

the morning after the sleep study...

our reward...

happily home to the House that Rocks!

The Expansion Exhibition at the East End Gallery.

We haven't had a proper exhibition since last Easter. Michael has been consumed with renovating the remainder of Shop 4 to finish the job. At times, he's felt like walking away. A cold winter, a persistent chest infection, another bout in hospital in August and general fatigue slowed his pace. The fireplace tested his patience. Crumbling plaster and brickwork and the appearance of very bad teeth took a month to rectify. Then the mantlepiece was attached to the wall. More cracks to chase, fill, plaster, sand, and paint.

The final ten percent of the job seemed to take ninety percent of the time. The insulation of the northern wall and the eastern wall went up. The tin went up on the back wall. Then it was time. The temporary tin wall blocking off the back of the Gallery came down and was relocated onto the eastern wall.

Two days ago, Michael added the flashing around the windows, the alcove and the workshop door. I was gobsmacked. Michael always sees the result before he starts a job - I never have a clue. Hence, I had no idea what the flashing would look like in situ. Stunning.

Naturally, we still have the finishing touches to complete and we've run out of money. We can do very little more until we sell the House that Rocks. But Michael has not been idle. Taking spare aluminium rods and an old door, he made an extra display table for the Giftshop today. He has also painted an ugly desk to cover the plumbing pipes that will become operational when my kitchen bench and sink are installed. Recycled of course.

The Forbes Building is now in full bloom. We took a crumbling, rotting, neglected and dark building and transformed it into as much of a work of art as any of the pieces in the East End Gallery.

Now it's time to celebrate Michael's achievement.

The Expansion Exhibition is opening on Saturday 19 March at 11 am. We have asked all our artists to add any new pieces they have. We want the East End Gallery to be bulging at the seams. We want to offer art for all people and all tastes. We want to put our art precinct and Beverley on the map.

Whoo hoo.

From little things, big things grow...

THE EXPANSION EXHIBITION

NEW ART           NEW ARTISTS            NEW SPACE

The East End Gallery

Saturday 19 March 2016: 11 am – 10 pm

116 Vincent Street Beverley

For more information call Kate on 0414 255 781

At last! A Cool Day in the East End Gallery.

After a week of Heavenly Beverley resembling Dante's Inferno, we have had relief. Last night, we started being in bed with no clothes and no covers. And the fan. Then we moved to pulling up the sheet. Then the doona. Finally, we turned off the fan. We woke this morning feeling cool.

Michael was in the Gallery ahead of me. His scaffolding was dismantled, piece by piece. We arranged furniture and hung pictures we'd taken down. I vacuumed where the scaffolding had been. Michael unearthed an old desk to cover the plumbing pipe in the back of the Gallery, thus preventing a nasty occupational and safety issue. I washed dishes, cleaned the couches and an occasional table. In between, we had a variety of guests into the Gallery.

Two young lads came in and asked to look at the artworks. One of them was the grand-nephew of one of our artists. They were polite, respectful and engaged. I was gobsmacked. They were on their way to the swimming pool and just thought they'd drop in. These boys are welcome anytime!

Groups from York, a couple of weekend residents and other visitors completed our day in the Gallery. I went over the road to the Red Vault cafe and took photos of the new outdoor desk. Debbie and Charmaine have worked so hard to bring their dream to fruition. They are another credit to Heavenly Beverley.

As I returned from the Red Vault, a lady was peering in the window of Wares West. I asked her if she wanted me to open the shop. She declined, but we then had a very entertaining conversation. She was on a farm southwest of Beverley. She and her husband had just finished at a clearance sale in town and were grabbing a bite to eat prior to their drive home.

We chatted about our plans to build behind the Gallery. Great idea, less garden. I agreed. I told her I'd wept over a number of corpses fried in the summer heat. Her philosophy about gardening was pretty simple. She claimed she didn't drink water, so why should plants? I nearly wet myself.

I'm sitting feeling almost cold. Bliss. The hot weather will return next week, but in the meantime, I'm enjoying a cool change.

Happy Valentine's Day.

The complete east wall of the East End Gallery

and the finished alcove...

plus doorway to the workshop.

Red Vault deck

looking north...

looking west from inside the Red Vault.