Heavenly Beverley : Romantic Gestures - Beverley Hillbillies Style

Into our tenth year together, one may have thought that we would have reduced our public displays of affection for each other. In fact, we still enjoy holding hands and kissing each other at highly inopportune moments. So much so that all my children have been known to screw up their faces in abject horror and invite us forcefully to "Get A Room!" at the sight of our impassioned smooching.

However, much as we delight in annoying susceptible people with our hand-holding and impromptu pashing, we do have some interesting ways of showing each other our undying love. Take Michael's different approaches to express his tenderness - on our very first trip (a Sales and Service cruise to unbelievably smelly places), he introduced me to the glamour of Boddington Alumina Mine, Griffin Coal and Worsley Alumina Refinery. The latter was a gigantic site with serious compulsory safety measures. I was required to wear monogoggles, steel capped boots, a hard hat, earplugs, gloves and Stuff To Pour Onto Yourself In Case of Coming Into Contact With Something Really Nasty after Michael signed me in as his Trade Assistant. His contractor co-ordinators just about wet themselves laughing. And astonishingly, I was fascinated by the unusual sights, sounds and odours of Michael's workplaces, much to his bemused pleasure.

Four months later, Michael took me out to his beloved Goldfields. Before I met my husband-to-be, I believed the Goldfields to be a region that one drove through to go somewhere else. I had fallen in love with him at first sight back in May 2009, and I had no idea, during the following October, he would devise me a little test to gauge whether I could become interested in his personal passions. Michael's private joys - the Outback, remote camping, fossicking and stories told through metal sculpture - had not been embraced by his previous wives and Michael was unwilling to enter a new relationship without being assured of my positivity.

I was riveted by these new experiences. A Goldfields' night sky, the surprising Great Western Woodland, the new skill of fossicking and the introduction of the area's living history were all devoured eagerly by Michael's willing pupil - me. We stayed in a deserted homestead after startling the resident racehorse goanna into departing. We camped adjacent to the remains of the Mount Palmer hotel which had been dismantled brick by brick after the gold had been exhausted. I gazed upon fields of quartz which were nearly every colour of the rainbow. We climbed an "island" to view Anthony Gormley's sculptures in all their glory amidst the stunning location of Lake Ballard. I learnt that Niagara Dam had been designed by C.Y. O'Connor, the genius behind Fremantle Harbour, Mundaring Weir and the Goldfields Pipeline. I discovered the dramatic landscapes of the Goldfields to be as beautiful as anywhere else I had travelled.

This is in spite of the fact that he also took me to Where Dead Things Smell and I dutifully trotted behind him without a moment's hesitation. He also staked a tyre to show off his cool driving style in Davyhurst, which is how we met the charming tyre fixer Bruce in Menzies. He encouraged me to vault a barbed wire fence into the Menzies State Battery, instead of opening the perfectly serviceable gate, with predictable results. I was caught by the wire in my tender thigh and bellowed like a bull. Attempting to released me, Michael poked the wire in a bit further. I was not happy...

On our last night, he exposed me to a rogue storm at the Golden Horn Mine. If one is unfamiliar with this kind of thunderstorm, let me explain. The is a storm that sneaks up out of nowhere, sends a tremendous bolt of lightning and a stunning clap of thunder from directly overhead, and once we had cowered bravely in the car and changed our undies, this monstrous weather ogre moved elsewhere to scare the willies out of other unsuspecting campers.

Following our second trip to the Goldfields in April 2010, Michael's mental and physical health deteriorated suddenly and badly. Six weeks later, I decided enough was enough. I was convinced somebody had to protect him in his precarious state and that was me. So, I unleashed a fiercely proactive love. Felled by a combination of his first very serious chest infection and a breakdown, I firstly ordered him into my duplex in Marangaroo, and took him to the quack to start the slow process of recovery. In January 2011, I moved him lock, stock and barrel to Beverley so he could hibernate in peace and catch his breath.

Since those momentous events, the Black Dogs of depression and anxiety have never been far from our heels. We combat them with humour and gritty determination. We poke fun at each other and ourselves. We try to see the funny side of all situations. We provide support and unconditional love to each other in times of need, whether in private or publicly.

Sunday afternoon, I was ready to set out for a walk with the Divine Jan George and her faithful sidekick Macca. I had Ruby saddled up and an enthusiastic Pip waiting for me to open the front door. There, on the handle was a neatly knotted pooh bag, full of dog pooh. My darling Michael had cleared the courtyard, but declined to toss the offending bag into the outside bin. Instead, he had thoughtfully left the package where I couldn't possibly miss it.

What a man!

Yesterday, we travelled to Northam for appointments. We both had our hearing tested by the willing Charmaine, who appeared to be thoroughly entertained by our banter. Laura, who is our adored podiatrist, took our feet In Hand and transformed them to be ready for any sudden invitation to a Ball. As ever, she giggled along with us as we reported our latest adventures.

This is how Michael and I operate. All too often, the busy and rigid routines of life are counter productive in the quest for spontaneous joy. We purposely removed ourselves from the hustle and bustle of the Big Smoke so we could experience those really important moments. And we have learnt, once more, that life is unpredictable and fleeting with the death of our wonderful friend Leigh. As lovers, partners and best friends, we try never to miss those tiny uplifting occurrences. Life is precious, life can be unexpected, life is to be treated as though each day is our last.

So we keep laughing and loving. hugging and holding hands and protecting one another. That's the romance. And every morning, we wake up, genuinely believing that we are the creators of our own world. And together, we are an awesome and formidable team.

Tally ho!