Heavenly Beverley : Our Island Home

My island home
is waiting for me...

These words form part of the lyrics sung by Christine Anu, describing the place that she was born and lived as a child. She speaks of her home with longing, whilst also telling of her life away.

Funnily enough, Michael and I have come to our own "Island Home" after many years of searching, individually and as a couple. Purists may point out that Beverley is hardly surrounded by water, which of course is true. However, Station House has become our sanctuary and when we are cocooned in our home, we feel completely contented.

Michael lived twenty years as a "Flatlander" in the plains of Perth's suburbia. For a boy and a man who felt alive in the Perth Hills, abandonment of the bush was very hard indeed. However, he had his wife and family, his brick shed and a magnificent eucalypt in his front garden as compensation.

Fast forward to Joan's death in December 2008. After the suddenness of her passing, he was left, forlorn and devastated in the anonymity of the suburbs. He ventured onto dating sites three months later. His first desperate relationship ended in tears. After a series of disastrous first dates, we met.

Initially, he was still living in Beechboro and I was in Marangaroo. Twelve months afterwards, after a savage and profound physical and emotional collapse, he moved into my duplex. As I cared for Michael, I knew we needed a place of our own.

We thought we had found Paradise in the skeleton of a wayside inn just north of Perth. However, this was beyond our reach and we were forced to think elsewhere. An arch of towns about ninety minutes from Perth were all explored. Beverley fitted the bill and we moved into the House that Rocks in January 2011.

We planted a large parkland garden. We grew the lawn from a dustbowl. We cried over floral corpses lost through both heat and frost. Our garden became thick and relatively lush in six years, blocking being overlooked. The house was renovated but needed an extension. We were planning for this eventuality when we began to spend more and more time in the Gallery.

Our garden suffered. We knew we couldn't have it all. We made the decision to sell the House that Rocks and build a new house behind the Gallery. After fifteen nerve-racking months, we had a buyer. Six months of camping in the Residence - two rooms and a wet area followed. We moved into Station House at the end of June 2017.

As we have finished the outside areas, Station House has become our haven. We now have a wonderfully spacious courtyard, our front porch with our white picket fence and a back patio which is shaded for most of the day. Jammed with pot plants, we now have a manageable garden that is becoming more and more beautiful.

This week has been very difficult for Michael. He anguished about attending Zack and Laura's wedding on a very personal anniversary. Eventually, he was forced to choose his emotional equilibrium over a family event that was bound to cause him serious angst.

So, we retreated to our Island Home. We have been low key, keeping to ourselves, catching up on a few chores. Digger the caravan is now parked back in the Residence yard. A mountain of washing is being tackled. I have looked after Michael as he has struggled to maintain his well being. We have weathered the storm.

We are looking forward to our early Christmas with Callum and Bronwyn and Ragnar, our grandcat on the weekend. Then, on Wednesday, Michael is having surgery on his troublesome carpel tunnels. The right one on this occasion.

We are so lucky to live in Heavenly Beverley, in a house we love and in a community we love. Michael has just had a particularly torrid day, involving bashing his head, skinning his nose and taking a chunk out of his arm.

Thankfully, tomorrow is another day...

PS - we did enjoy a particularly silly example of bad driving by a novice caravanner on Sunday. As he accelerated away from the kerb, the left side of his caravan nearly took out the street rubbish bin, leaving a telltale reflector behind. He is possibly less than happy...