Heavenly Beverley : Days of Delight and Disaster

Today is Thursday. I am very grateful to be back in the East End Gallery so I can take the weight off my long-suffering feet. Our "days off" vanished into the ether with hardly a blink. We have enjoyed some fabulous achievements as well as some events that we could have done without...

Monday was all about Northam. We started the day with our marvellous GP Stephanie, discussing Michael's recent sojourn in Hollywood Hospital. Stephanie is very thorough, loves a chat and has a great sense of humour. Michael's "unstable angina" is looking more like an oesophageal spasm caused by severe reflux. Hence a referral back to Matt Zimmerman, our very tall gastroenterologist, for a look-see into Michael's irritated gut. A handful of scripts were written and then we were on our way.

Early lunch at the ever-reliable Lucy's Cafe and then onto the Orthotics Delivery. The Foot Studio's Laura inserted our custom-made orthotics into our shoes with a great deal of appropriate reverence. The good news is that I no longer weave tipsily when I'm sober. The bad news is that Michael still walks like a duck, albeit a well-balanced duck.

We finished our day at an informal appointment with our accountant Ryan. Just organising which particular facts and figures for tax returns (again) and laughing hysterically at the concept of ever having to pay GST. A cup of tea and coffee and a couple of biccies fortified us until we returned home. More progress on the Wall added to our excitement.

Tuesday was all about home. Housework reared its ugly head and the erupting volcano of washing in my laundry was tamed. Rapidly becoming a senior citizen, I can become quite excited by undies straight out of the dryer or the joys of my latest labour-saving contraption - my first floor steamer!

After several false starts, Dory finally was mounted in her rightful position on the front wall of Station House. A few futile searches for the studs can easily be translated into Dory's bubbles. Now all that is left is to touch up the wall in the odd spot. However the overall effect of a two metre metal fish on our front wall is absolutely wonderful.

On a less than ideal note, I received a phone call from the delicious Doctor Daram. Rather than seeing his Divineness in September, the innocuous little spot on my left cheek has turned out to be a spreading squamous cell carcinoma. Not as nasty as a melanoma, but cannot be unchecked. Hence, I will be lining up for another chunk to be removed from my anatomy next week. Oh goody...

Wednesday was all about the Big Smoke. Foremost was our Autistic Superstar's birthday. At the third stroke of seven minutes past nine, Alex turned twenty-seven. Inspiration porn this may be, but I remain in awe of Alex's achievements. Responding to a cousin's lament about also being on the Autism Spectrum, Alex responded that he viewed being autistic as a gift from God. Holy cow! Not bad for a young man who was non-verbal at four years of age. We presented him with a photograph of us (which he immediately placed on his bookshelf), a new heater and a Tupperware sushi maker. Always considerate, Alex took to Facebook to thank us. We thoroughly enjoyed his company as we gave him a lift to Perth Bible College, for a day of studying with his tribe. Happy birthday Big Al!

Onwards to the Boy Wonder. My troublesome knee is still a pain in the...knee. We decided to leave my knee "on hold" for three months in the hope that it will begin to behave itself, stop swelling, stop collecting fluid and stop being painful, I see Ben again in July. Improvement will see me off the operating table. No change will be more complicated. Wish me luck...

Onward to a momentous occasion. Digger, our new caravan, was presented to us. A fairly lengthy handover and a very lengthy phone call for insurance before we drove him home. Michael and I had never towed anything larger than trailers. The freeway was our first challenge and we pulled off to check the caravan a couple of times. Safely heading up Greenmount, we decided to stop for pizza in Mundaring.

Mundaring Village carpark can be a challenge in a standard vehicle. In the dark and towing a large unfamiliar appendage should have rung alarm bells. Manoeuvring his way through the carpark at a snail's pace, Michael was horrified to hear a resounding crunch. Having not had an accident for about thirty years, the thought that he had hit another vehicle was utterly dreadful. And that was exactly what had happened. Note to selves - never take a caravan into a suburban carpark...

The driver arrived as we were writing a note to leave on his windscreen. After his initial shock, he ended up comforting us. Thank God for insurance. Michael began the process of the claim this morning. Our excess should remind him never to attempt this caper ever again.

We drove home without any further incident. However, finding a suitable spot to park Digger was another challenge. Michael drove around the block twice to position Lily into the correct trajectory to pull Digger into a suitable spot on Anzac Lane. We also discovered that negotiating kerbs and piles of bricks were no issue for Digger whatsoever.

We arrived home last night at eight o'clock. Shattered doesn't even come close to how we felt. In spite of the unfortunate prang at Mundaring, we were profoundly pleased to have eaten. I savoured half a glass of vino before I staggered off to bed. Michael watched James Bond for a while before he also succumbed to a horizontal position.

Writing this final paragraph whilst waiting for dinner to cook is a blissful end to a less chaotic day. Middle age is not for the faint-hearted.