Heat and Rain and Black and Blue!

We have just lived through an extraordinary few days. Normally, I would avoid mentioning the weather, because that practice would mean I may be rapidly approaching senility.

Except we have just spent four days being barbequed, followed by a break in the drought that Noah would have expected.

Summer in Beverley ranges from very warm to bloody hot. Apart from rare thunderstorms, we do not have very much precipitation. Twelve millilitres is the January rainfall average. Now, for the second year in a row, this figure has been blown out of the water.

And then there was the drop in temperature. From forty-three degrees on one day to thirty degrees and horribly humid to bottoming out at twenty degrees. Two nights ago, we were sweltering. Today we were scrambling for jeans and double layers. BIZARRE.

Vanessa and I paid our first visit to the Beverley Pool on Saturday. The relief of sliding into the cool water was divine. Today I was delighted by the warm shower.

The rain created a few unusual inconveniences. The leak in the Residence that soaked my referral to Doctor Daram. Michael's prescription and his facial x-rays. Dozens of doggy footprints brought the wet and the dirt up the hallway. And washing up in my outdoor kitchen was, literally, washed out. All the dishes and the basins had to be brought inside and squashed onto the limited bench space.

In between improvising for drips and morning chores, we met with John and Lindsay for an update of our plans. Further obstacles were sorted. Michael explored options of house placement on our block at the shire with the planner and the surveyor.

Then suddenly we were off to Perth to see the dermatologist. Michael's appointment was easy A check-up of his lip and an examination of a spot on his head (which turned out to be nothing) look little time. Daram's investigation of my nose and cheek took longer. Then he advised biopsies of three areas, offering to carry out the procedure on another day. I knew if I didn't have this done today, I would stress and worry and be frightened about the excisions. And Michael was with me.

He fully explained why he chose to do what and why he did. He made sense to me. So, at least I knew what to expect. Local anaesthetic hurts. And I swore and cried. As he finished, Daram complemented me on my bravery, which helped me feel a lot better. I know that I will have to return for more surgery on my nose, but hopefully only one spot. Daram is one of the Good Guys. And he is hot.  I suppose that sticking a needle or three into my face was a sensible way to bring me back to earth.


He also suggested I have a mild sedative next time. What an excellent idea. Which I will. And he offered the hand of his assistant for me to crush. Poor bastard!

I am currently sporting three sexy band-aids on top of my three separate stitches. My nose feels the size of a small barn. My cheek feels like I have been in an unsuccessful punch up. I have had a  restorative glass of vino. I am about to take some pain relief and a cup of tea to bed.

Good night.

First, there was the Great Heat...

Followed by the Breaking of the Drought...

How much I love going to hospital...

How I felt this evening.

However, I have pulled through...

with a little help from my friend!