Nothing could be further from the truth. Come January, we will have been resident here for eight years. Where on earth did the time go? Renovating one house, establishing half an acre of gardens, then building another house filled up a few years. Add the restoration of the Forbes Building which took a back-sapping, dust-spreading, crack-repairing, mind-numbing effort which is still not quite finished.
We've opened an art gallery, run away to the bush every now and then, spent exasperating periods in the Big Smoke and dealt with the deaths of all four of our parents over a relatively short timeframe. Our latest dash was to see our glorious and beloved friend, Leigh Doust before he died and share in the poignant, tragic, hilarious and emotional aftermath following his death.
I have often pondered my reaction had I moved to Beverley as a single woman. I had tried that caper on the Sunshine Coast in 2005/2006 and I had never been lonelier in my life. Whilst having difficulty contemplating life without my darling Michael, I probably would have been alright.
From the very first day here in town, people stopped to greet us. Then we discovered the awesome publication that is the Beverley Blarney - our monthly newspaper. Plus there is the Beverley bulletin, an A4 sheet distributed on a weekly basis. There are a marvellously eclectic number of activities in which to participate in Beverley, most of them affordable for all. Stay Active - Tuesday's fitness costs a dollar to attend. Then there are both card games of Bridge and Samba, the gardening club, the naturalists club (not the nude group), the Men's Shed, the quilting group, line dancing, more sporting opportunities than you can shake a stick at (including the strenuous game of darts for both Ladies and Men's teams), pony club, LEGO club for the kids, Women's Auxiliary, Country Women' Association, volunteering at the Dead Finish Museum and Avondale Farm plus other activities galore. All within a walk or short drive of town.
Walking down the main drag on Saturday mornings is problematic. The newsagent closes at noon. I often have to negotiate my way out of several conversations in order to grab the papers. Shopping at our IGA has similar issues. I might pop in for a single item, forget that, have a number of delightful chats and leave with an armful of items I didn't realise I needed. One simply doesn't have that experience in the impersonal space that is your larger generic supermarkets.
I swear that Beverley must be the central meeting spot in the known universe. We have connected with old friends, most of Michael's previous girlfriends and new friends, We have welcomed guests from all walks of life into the East End Gallery. We have fielded challenging questions and relished in quirky conversations.
Take this last weekend for example. A charming Dutchman named Ron wandered into the Gallery to enquire where he might obtain an Indigenous bullroarer. The fabulous Inez Northover in Brookton had assured him that I would know where he could source one. For a start, I am embarrassed to say I couldn't understand him that well. I thought he was saying his name was...Gron. And that he was looking for a Grull#@^*&%...Only after he showed me a photographic example on his phone did I truly get the gist of his enquiry.
Leaping into action, I tried Phoning A Friend. Or two. And the Northam Tourism Information. And the Indigenous Interpretive and Environmental Centre. No such luck. Later, I found out from the inimitable Jan George that these are items more common on the East Coast. Where Ron had just come from. On a motorbike. However, I did manage to unearth a brochure on Aboriginal Arts Centres, which I handed to him to help him in his quest.
Then I met Sarah and (another) Ron, who had ridden over from Kellerberrin. She stopped dead in her tracks as she entered the Gallery. I was in my uniform as ever (Charters' Towers frock). She had been in the same Queensland dress shop and picked up a jacket in the same colours. We chatted amiably for a good half an hour or so. Sarah was also instrumental in suggesting a few tips for the Gallery's arrangement, especially my new chest of drawers display featuring Sharon Williams' art. Michael and Ron disappeared into the Workshop for some manly conversation leaving us conveniently on our own.
Two new artists in three days. Sharon from Brookton and woodturner Gary Dodge from Cuballing. I have firmly decided that the East End Gallery must be a TARDIS. No matter how many artists we meet, we seem to be able to squeeze them into a spot of their own. Oh, my giddy aunt!
This weekend, Beverley is hosting that event of all things bicycling - the world-famous Beverley Heroic. Master of Ceremonies in the unforgettable Toby Hodgson. Huzzar! The weather could be a tad questionable but there are plenty of spaces to shelter - for example, the East End Gallery - and at least our two-wheeled and self-propelled enthusiasts won't have an issue with heat stroke.
Come and see for yourselves. Take a drive (or bicycle ride) to Heavenly Beverley.
A Collage of Heavenly Beverley...and us.
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