Heavenly Beverley : December 2018

Monday, 31 December 2018

An Excellent Birthday for An Excellent Bloke

We actually began preparations for the last birthday party of this year on the previous day.

Most unusual for us.

With a "P" theme, we'd decided to entertain the troops as a pirate and his parrot. Michael rediscovered two earring piercings he hadn't used for thirty years or so and duly filled them with some seaworthy pieces.

I'd had my hair coloured purple by the indispensable Kerryanne of U Beauty Country. She'd also attacked my eyebrows, upper lip and witchy-poo hairs on my chin. At least I no longer resembled John Howard.

We set off armed with costumes, pillows, medication, earl grey tea, ground coffee and Michael's coffee plunger. We have learnt that these are essential items on any expedition. When Michael is in hospital, the smell of fresh coffee always attracts nurses to his room. Like all the best scouts, we like to be ready for any circumstances.

Our digs in Palmyra was a dinky little granny flat, whose host was the cheerful and generous Noel. There was no air conditioning, which didn't matter as the day was only warm. The bathroom had seen better days, but the price was right and the location perfect. Our affable host even gave us a lift to the party. What a man!

Only a few guests had arrived before us. We found Leigh, the birthday boy and Jen, his outstanding missus. Jen's Italian family had been cooking all day. Narelle on the bar was producing some wickedly alcoholic cocktails. Photographer "Peter Parker" started snapping the happy attendees. Leigh excelled as a "Protester". Jen was his "Present". The DJ (Jen's brother) was fantastic, the music was age appropriate for old farts and the company reminisced through the ages. Some idiot "Prisoner" thought I was a "Possum". After a suitable torrent of abuse, I reflected he may have been correct...

The food, needless to say, was delicious and plentiful. The night wore on and as an increasingly middle-aged party pooper, I became very tired. And very cold. I had forgotten Fremantle's "Doctor" cooled down the suburb even after the hottest day. Who would have thought I'd need a cardigan in late December?!

I retreated indoors after the speeches to curl up on the couch. Leigh's daughter Hayley was costumed as "Pauline Pantsdown". He has done a fantastic job of raising Hayley and his brother Kieran. I snoozed as guests came and went. Finally, I summoned my darling husband and we UBERed out of Fremantle back to our Airbnb.

A decent sleep-in and we left Noel's abode just after eleven o'clock. We dropped in to wish the birthday boy and his awesome wife a final farewell. A partygoer was still asleep on the couch. This happens when those of us who are aged stay up past our bedtime.

Leigh and Jen are wonderful friends. We do not see them as often as we'd like. Leigh joined us in August to honour the other Leigh (Doust), who died soon after a devastating diagnosis of cancer. Jen has been to hell and back in 2018, following her own significant brush with breast cancer. I gave Jen permission to smack me after I asked if she is well. She is. And she didn't whack me.

We drove home to a gasping garden. The heat had hit some of our pots very hard. We have watered yesterday and now today as well. I dropped Vanessa to Midland Station so she could attend her New Year's Eve party at her friend's house.

We are looking forward to 2019. With Jan and Greg and Macca, we are watching the telly. I can't think of a better way to celebrate New Year with Michael.

Enjoy the passing of 2018.

The Parrot (Possum) and the Pirate

Yep, definitely a Possum

Wings and tail feather

The Pirate

The Present

The present and the Protester

A worthy protest!

The Party and the Pink Lady

Two Pink Ladies!

The Princess and the Punk

Not Sure, a Pimp and a Pirate

A Pumpkin Eater and Darryl (Michael's brother)

The usual suspects and a Patient

The Phantom and a Prostitute

The Peacock

The Prisoner and the Police

The Cake!

Pauline Pantsdown (Hayley) and Kieran during their Speech.

Thursday, 27 December 2018

A Bit of Pre-Christmas VVRROOOM!

As we approach the climax of the Silly Season, we enter into a maniacal flurry of cleaning ( to impress friends and rellies) and an equally maniacal flurry of outings and events ( to impress friends and rellies). Hence by Christmas Day, we are thoroughly exhausted and frazzled. However, we are also extraordinarily grateful that we have survived, more or less intact, with usually nothing worse than an unpleasant hangover and a bloated belly. These complaints will then be solved by about forty-eight hours of solid sleep and a few Berocca.

Take our lead up to this Christmas, for example. We managed to squeeze an early celebration in the Big Smoke with Callum and Bronwyn, followed by Michael's carpal tunnel surgery, dreaded visits to the chaos of the Telstra Shop in Midland, our Christmas Sundowner, baking Wheatbelt summer heat and opening the East End Gallery until Christmas Eve.

Two incidents do tend to stand out in the prolonged marathon towards Christmas Day itself. Annoyed with the vacuum cleaner's seeming lack of power and suction, I decided to change All The Filters within this labour-saving contraption. Plus, I washed about two months worth of Wheatbelt dust and pollen out of the catcher and dried it until it sparkled. After re-assembly, I duly pushed the ON button of my Vax Power7 and waited a split second for ignition...

The beast ROARED into life. And I meant ROARED. My vacuum cleaner had been transformed into the Incredible Hulk (without the green skin). Scared the willies out of me so completely and quickly that I hastily turned it off and went in search of a clean pair of knickers. Approaching the machine with some caution, I poked at the ON switch once more. At least this time, I was ready for the Primal Scream.

Oh, my giddy aunt! I am fully aware of Age-Related Delight. This is a condition that afflicts me whenever I find unexpected pleasure in a mundane or predictable task. I vacuumed the floors in record time and then followed up with the steam mop. My floors shone, right until Christmas night when the Problem Child used her front paw to hold the baking pan still whilst conducting a pre-rinse cycle.

Guess what cleaning job is on today's agenda...?

The other bit of VVRROOOM was provided by the Beverley Station Arts' Christmas Community Concert. A free event, so we could afford to go, we rang along (incredibly badly) to Carols led by the Station Singers. We also didn't have to travel - except from one side of the railway line to the other. Even better was the Happy Hour of drinkies until seven thirty. The Platform Theatre area was packed with families. The day had been an absolute scorcher, so we were all grateful to watch a glorious sunset.

And then we were introduced to the amazing spectacle of ZAP CIRCUS. Firstly, we were intrigued by the pink safety rope which the children were asked to remain behind. Then we watched a fire being lit in a tall metal cylinder. Rusty and Tarabelle followed up with a show of flames and acrobatics to remember. Some of their humour went over the heads of the kids, but we all had a rollickingly brilliant time. Big screen images as they performed added to the thrill and the booming music offended no one in the outdoor venue. A huge thank you to Station Arts for organising this breath-taking event. ZAP CIRCUS ROCKED.

As I write this in post-Christmas relaxation mode, the last week of 2018 is passing very pleasantly indeed. Our only engagement is a 60th birthday party in Fremantle on the 29th. This party has a "P" theme.

I'm looking for original ideas that can be outfitted at an op shop or Red Dot. Suggestions, please!

Oh, the joy of Christmas shopping drives...

Whereas, in Heavenly Beverley is our own Helper...

LOL!!!!!

Successful regeneration after taking the Vax Power7 apart...

Followed by melting into a puddle of grease and sweat at cleaning's end...

A First World Christmas Challenge...

And we thought we were busy!

In action...

And a gentle reminder for Christmas Eve/Morning...

Friday, 21 December 2018

The Trouble With Telstra

Back in the late sixties, an episode of Star Trek was titled "The Trouble with Tribbles". These were cute, sex-mad furry little critters that caused havoc on the "Enterprise" and a space station before being handballed to become Somebody Else's problem - in this case into a Klingon ship.

Unfortunately, Telstra has the ability to create a catastrophe without being cute. furry or sex-mad. Take our recent experiences trying to solve problems with our latest hotspot and galloping data usage.

We had initially gone into the Midland Gate Telstra Shop as Michael had reached the point of No Return - he hated his phone and wanted one that was easier for him to operate. The charming Vivek set Michael up with a Samsung Galaxy which was delightfully and surprisingly hassle-free. He also provided a new Netgear hotspot, signed us up to a new data plan and assured us our overall bill would become lower in cost.

We should have known better. We fell for a Telstra fairytale...

We forgot that Telstra shops are staffed almost entirely by salespeople. These are mostly savvy young people who are confident in loading technology devices but not at technical support. And they also may swiftly set up conveniences they consider essential, but which cause those of us who were not born in the computer age untold headaches.

Michael was exceedingly happy with his new phone. However, we were not happy with problems with our new hotspot, data usage and being able to access the Netgear site online. We tried contacting Vivek, whom I'd given a very good review. No response. We were sure that the hotspot was being hacked, such was the enormous jump in our data usage.

Monday afternoon, I contacted Telstra by phone. I eventually was connected with John. That this was not his real name was bleedingly obvious. He wasn't too bad - I understood about three-quarters of what he was saying. After over an hour, all he'd been able to achieve was refunding us for an additional data pack.

I requested an appointment at Midland Gate for the following late morning. I was offered appointments in Armadale and Maddington. I stood my ground and was finally given an appointment for eleven o'clock in Midland Gate.

We were five minutes late, due to a truck breakdown on Great Eastern Highway. The officious Meet and Greet scolded me and had given my appointment consultant to Somebody Else. So I had to wait.

We were seen, after due course, by Zoe. She genuinely wanted to help us, in spite of my shirty demeanour. Through a process of elimination, she worked out Michael's phone had been linked to our hotspot. This meant whenever Michael's phone was in the vicinity of the hotspot, it would use the hotspot's 10GB of data, rather than its own.

This was the reason our data had jumped from around 0.5 MB per day up to 1000 MB per day. We also discovered that 10 GB was never going to be enough for thirty days, but we were tied into a contract for two years. So much for cheaper bills...

And the reason I was unable to access Netgear's home page was due to the efficient Vivek setting up a password, but not telling me. Awesome.

We left the Telstra Shop, shellshocked. What we had hoped would be a better outcome for us had turned into anything but that.

Apparently, we now have 15 GB per month. However, we have already used 2.29 GB with thirty days to go. You can do the maths. This is not going to end well for us...

Can we please have some Tribbles in our fuel tank?!

Monday, 17 December 2018

A (Slightly Bad/ Slightly Mad) Jolly Visit from Santa Claus and a Memorable Christmas Sundowner

"We're all mad here", the Mad Hatter informs Alice. Given the state of the world, I often relish a bit of madness, a bit of silliness, a bit of fun. A very long time ago, when I had a breakdown, I lost my sense of humour. An absence of humour in my life was the "Don't Panic" crescendo that I was caught in a serious mental crisis. I vowed to never let my demons kidnap all the laugh-out-loud ridiculous highlights ever again.

Christmas is starting to bring out my innate sense of these precious moments. I have been wearing my festive hat, along with my Christmas Tree necklace for a few weeks now. On Saturday I was also adorned with red jangly earrings, so I can almost sing "Jingle Bells" without opening my mouth.

I gave another Santa hat and some reindeer antlers to my great friend and masseur, Janet from "Nourishabley". The inimitable Jan George arrived at our 4th Birthday and Sundowner, wearing a fabulous purple frock with matching purple antlers. As one does. I am very keen to receive photos of other Santa outfits or accessories to post in this Blog. So far, the main contenders are Linda and John. I failed to secure evidence of Linda's attire, however, I am able to reproduce an image of John in all his slightly questionable glory.

The last week or so have been rather trying in terms of family angst. I hope these issues are sorted out sooner rather than later. In the meantime, the stage was set for a positively joyful Christmas Sundowner and Birthday Party at the East End Gallery on Saturday night.

The weather was not promising. The wind was blowing at gale force. The humidity was brutal and the summer dust, undisturbed until stillness ceased, created visibility problems, streaming allergies and a fire just south of Beverley at Kokeby.

I had attempted to buy a wading pool for the evening from Avon Trading. They had sold out. Disaster. Then, their resident Knight-In-Shining-Armour Marcus sprang to my rescue. He donated his children's pool for the duration of our evening event. That, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens in Heavenly Beverley.

We were set for Launch. All Systems Were Go. Brian Aylward conducted another superb pastel demonstration for all eager participants. He gratefully received a decent glass of red wine before he left as quietly as he had arrived, hoping to return to his Wooroloo home and studio before the kangaroos came out for the night.

BBQ, pool, drinks, nibbles, sausages, chicken winglets were prepared. There was a last minute dash for presents into Santa's Sack. We had a brilliant group of friends mingling for the Social Event of 2018.

Then came an awful moment. Santa was unable to participate due to the trying weather conditions. He and his reindeer had been blown off course. There was only one solution. Without the Real Santa, I was going to have to step into the breach.

I didn't even have a convenient telephone box handy. In the middle of the Gallery, I pulled the very cheap and nasty Santa suit on. Bugger any shoes. Initially, I put on the beard back to front. As soon as I reversed the facial abomination, I immediately began chomping on Chinese polyester or whichever material they employed to mass-produce snowy Santa beards.

So, my career as Santa Claus was added to my CV. I actually find ad-libbing far easier than preparing a script. I certainly didn't hold back. The usual amount of profanity exited my woolly lips and the horrible plastic belt kept falling off. I decided that sitting regally would be the best option so my Santa Pants remained in position. Even so, I heard a rather alarming ripping sound coming from my posterior as I sat. Honestly, a ten dollar Santa Suit that was only going to survive one outing!

I was pleasantly surprised by the footage. With my dress tucked in, I pulled off Santa's physique perfectly, albeit a somewhat short one. I had an absolute ball and I think that the gift receivers enjoyed their minutes of fame.

The food was disappearing, the wine was flowing and the music began. We ended up having a rip-roaring night that was part "Red Faces", part "Australian Idol" and part "Australia's Got Talent". We enjoyed having multiple singers, including the incredibly laidback Lawrence Jones, the divine Jan George, the smooth Neville Dowling (of Dave Warner and the Suburban Boys fame!), the surprising Luke Blanch, the gorgeous Michelle Clifton, the unforgettable Martin Eloury (his version of "Bohemian Rhapsody" will go down in history), the urbane Rodney Gibbs (of Rod and the Rockets) and introducing the young Bethany Blanch in her first performance. What a night!

The evening rocked on. The floor is a testament to the number of new spillages to add to the Gallery's glorious tales over the last four years. I called stumps at a quarter to twelve with the announcement of "Five minutes gentlemen". Somehow, this was completely lost in translation and the party grooved on until a quarter to two...

There were a few sore heads as a result. And bucketloads of thanks. Michelle Clifton and her husband Murray (Muzz) slept in their car and still thanked us for the Christmas Sundowner, even though Muzz's hangover was not a laughing matter. Earlier in the evening, Muzz had also fetched and carried and made himself indispensable. So many of our artists, who are also our friends, graced the venue. Plus Kate, Ailsa and Poppy formed a gang on the sidelines, Lenny and Tyler (our local Artists in Residence) probably had never seen anything like one of our celebrations. Ross's face said it all (a close buddy of Jan and Greg and hopefully one of our artists in the not too distant future)...Martin's wife Janet clapped every performance (including Martin's occasionally frightful singing), Adam and Gem met a Santa like no other, Bethany was an active participant, Lisa was quietly moving with the music, Michelle Rothwell introduced Dave to our throng, Marianne followed calmly in the wake of Rod's aura and we were having the time of our lives.

Yesterday was recovery. Michael admitted his own fuzziness but a splendid breakfast lifted all our spirits. Mardi, who had been present at the Sundowner earlier in the evening had made our home her home, which is exactly how we hope our guests feel in Station House. Others who had been unable to attend sent profound apologies or popped in the next day. We appreciated each and every one of you.

PS our first Sundowner for 2019 will be on Saturday 2 March. You all know the drill. Just get up here and have fun!