Heavenly Beverley : The Clog and the Frog...

When I was young and pompous, I often held ridiculously rigid and judgmental attitudes. My first real taste of meeting women from all walks of life was during the years I experienced my "Obstetric Adventures". My emotional trauma led me to seek out others in similar circumstances - those of us whose babies died. That was our connection. I would never have met any of these amazing, brave, sad, furious and funny women but for my own losses.

So, I discovered people were inherently interesting. Later, through the Nursing Mothers Association, HeartKids, ABACAS and the Kalparrin Mothers' Weekends, I widened my circle of friends and acquaintances. I started writing. My early journalling was filled with bleakness and sadness at my own situation, including an increasingly rocky marriage. So, I stopped.

Yet, I loved hearing conversation. I would listen to people everywhere - in supermarket queues, in Centrelink, at the doctors' surgery, in hospitals, in cafes. This was my life buoy and my endless curiosity helped immensely in some pretty dark places and during some pretty dreadful times.

Later, I started greeting and smiling at those around me. And being rewarded with a smile in return. Always demonstrative, I practised touching others in their own times of need. I remember standing at the greengrocers being asked about my twins. They had recently been stillborn, so I broke down. Somebody, whose face I never saw, gently stroked my shoulder so I knew I wasn't alone. That physical gift on that day taught me about the loving power of touch.

Being with Michael has been a Master Class in meeting people. Travelling and camping opened my eyes to a universe of diversity. I've met blokes in outback pubs that I definitely wouldn't have taken home to my mother and who turned out to be fantastically entertaining men with hearts of gold. I've met women dripping in jewels in Kalgoorlie or Yellowdine or Leonora who are having the time of their lives. They simply choose to dress that way.

And the East End Gallery has only added to the thrill of welcoming people from anywhere. A smile and a greeting are the least I do. Some of our guests and artists have become our great friends. How lucky we are.

The Top Pub in Beverley is another melting pot of individuals. Friday night is pub night for us. A break from cooking and dishes, good food, lovely vino and a chance to mingle with a bunch of characters is a pleasure we seldom miss.

Bill and Ben are a constant source of fun. Both in their early sixties, they work hard and play hard. Neither of them has any further interest in becoming involved with the ladies. Often led to tears in the past; usually not theirs. In their spare time, they are often to be found in each others company. So much so that I had nicknamed them the Bobsie Twins.

Bill arrived in Australia as a French speaker in his teens. Ben's heritage is Dutch. They insult each other in a ping-pong banter, each trying to be wittier and more scornful. A narrative of their affection.

The atmosphere was thick with tension when they arrived last evening. When they sat with different groups, the plot intensified. The awful truth was revealed. Ben had rung Bill, requesting he pick up a particular colour of grout whilst Bill was in the Big Smoke. Ben was on his hands and knees in a Beverley bathroom, praying that the tiling job he had undertaken would soon finish with the grout's acquisition.

No problem responded Bill. Except that the Quest for the Holy Grout turned into a two-and-a-half hour epic expedition for Bill. And Ben wasn't answering his mobile. Once the grout had been located and the deed done, Ben responded to his phone to listen to an earful of expletives, courtesy of Bill. I'll leave the contents of that conversation to your imagination.

As I darted backwards and forwards to the bar, I was reporting the Great Stand-Off between the Clog and the Frog. At any second, open hostilities could have erupted in the Beer Garden. Only a few generous shouts by Ben of Bill's favourite beverage saved the day. Order was restored, the armistice was signed and peace descended onto the Beer Garden once more.

No more Bobsie Twins as far as I'm concerned. Long live the Clog and the Frog.

The Front Line...