The Simple Things...

The last day of September. Busy day, with lots of guests through the East End Gallery. I've barely had time to think. And when I have tried to engage the little grey cells, I haven't been terribly successful navigating the load of bollocks that is buzzing around my head, masquerading as Deep Thoughts.

The trouble is, the years seem to be accelerating faster and faster as I become older. Back in the time of the dinosaurs, there was at least some variation. For example, school terms passed far more slowly than the holidays. I would count down the weeks and days until all the breaks, but particularly the summer holidays, which began with a sense of infinity stretching out before me. Then, the days would annoyingly speed up, meaning that we would all be confined inside four walls again before we were ready, supposedly learning stuff that would set us up for the rest of our lives.

This has all changed with mature age (not necessarily mature behaviour). I feel that I have less time to do more and more. So, my chances of catching up are similar odds to Buckley's. To quote Charlie Brown..."AAUGH" comes to mind at moments like this.

Which really is only a stopgap. What I like practising, hopefully before I become overwhelmed by day-to-day reality, is to stop. Even if only for five minutes. Sniff the intoxicating aroma of our jasmine creeper. Turn my face into the breeze. Watch the deciduous trees bursting with new growth. Listen to the birds as they busily make nests and lay their eggs and have babies.

Yesterday evening, we discovered a baby bird that had fallen out of the nest. High anxiety gave way to relief and then wonder as the mother called her infant chick and persuaded it to follow her back to their home. The baby was just capable of flight, which had landed it, literally, in its predicament. Mum coaxed bub back and we assume they both safely found their way home.

We have a small lizard resident in the Gallery, usefully chomping on fly carcasses. Plus we came upon two besotted bobtails, doing what besotted bobtails do. The Lady and the Tramp posed for photos before Lady shot off into a corner of Michael's workshop and Tramp retired behind Michael's significant metal collection.

Saturday began with a celebration of the re-opening of Kerryanne's beauty salon, U Beauty Country, in Shop 1 of our Forbes Building. Lindsey and Kerryanne have poured their hearts, souls, labour and money into crafting Kerryanne's own salon. We are thrilled that they chose us to start their dream of opening Kerryanne's business.

Saturday night's Sundowner only attracted a smallish gathering. We didn't care. The combination of musos Lawrence Jones, Jan George, Nick Childs and Guy Slingerland was just fabulous. How lucky are we to know such gifted performers who willingly give their time to us. For free. The Christmas Sundowner, on Saturday 14 December, will feature both "our" musicians and the talented and grooviest eighty-year-old named Brian Aylward who will be conducting a pastels demonstration. Again for nothing. All we offer is a decent glass of vino for his trouble. We couldn't possibly give Brian the cheap and nasty plonk for his services...

I love spring in Heavenly Beverley. Not quite warm enough to swim, but full of mostly pleasant days and nights. The heater is being used less, the fans more. Our courtyards are full of colour. The house is bright and airy with doors and windows flung open after the cold of winter.

And today felt like a Joe Cocker sort-of-day. When I was quite young, I used to sit in my brother David's turquoise blue room and listen to his collection of hits of the Beach Boys, Herman and the Hermits and of course, Mister Joe Cocker.

Joe's voice has always captivated me. Gravelly, sensual, full-throttled and tender, Joe is still a favourite. So, I played him. So many great songs. But probably, I have always loved "The Simple Things" more than any of his songs.

"The Simple Things" remind us to breathe, to appreciate, to savour, to grab the present with both hands. A great song to remember how to stop. Even if only for five minutes...

 Somewhere Along The Way

I Got Caught Up In The Race
I Kept Spinning And Turning
Lost Myself My Hope My Faith

We're Always Wanting More Than What We Have
And What I've Learned Is All I Really Need Are...

The Simple Things
That Come Without A Price
The Simple Things
Like Happiness Joy And Love In My Life
I've Seen It All From So Many Sides
And I Hope You Would Agree
The Best Things In Life
Are The Simple Things

Hey Everybody Don't Get Me Wrong
You Got To Understand
Ambition And Knowledge
Are The Seeds Of Every Woman And Man

It's Good To Work... Work Hard And Prosper
As Long As You Take Time To Find...

The Simple Things
That Come Without A Price
The Simple Things
Like Happiness Joy And Love In My Life
I've Seen It All From So Many Sides
And I Hope You Would Agree
That The Best Things In Life
Are The Simple Things

This World Moves So Fast
Sometimes You Got To Slow Down, Down, Down
To Find Out What Its All About

Solo

We're Always Wanting More Than What We Have
What I've Learned, Is What I Really Need Are..

The Simple Things
That Come Without A Price
The Simple Things
Like Happiness Joy And Love In My Life
I've Seen It All From So Many Sides
And I Hope You Would Agree
That The Best Things In Life
Are The Simple Things

If time is flying...

Faster and faster...!

Scream if you have to...and then try to remember "The Simple Things"...

Like family and friends...

Celebrations of a dream come true...

Take time out at an East End Gallery Sundowner!

Watch a horny bobtail...

Or a baby bird finding his way back to Mum...

STOP...even if only for five minutes.

The Steampunk Event of the Year in Heavenly Beverley

Last Saturday, we were honoured to attend Gem and Adam's Steampunk Pizza Preception Party. We had never been to a Preception Party before. Gem and Adam, two utterly sensible young people, had decided to have a series of parties in Beverley and Perth before they marry this coming Sunday. Hence the idea of a preception rather than a reception.

As I had completely forgotten to notify our supporters of our absence from the Gallery for the party's duration, I snuck into the Gallery just before eleven o'clock to stick a notice on the door.  Clad in my passion-killing blue and white dressing gown, thermal undies and my ugg boots, I was surprised by local supporter Mike wishing to enter and see me in all my glory.

Beautiful...

Mike couldn't have cared less about what I was wearing. He had eyes only for "Bat Out Of Hell", Paul Kendall's masterful motorbike creation. Paul had won the Darlington art prize with his sculpture, made entirely from parts unrelated to a motorbike, and had been unable to convince any Perth galleries to show her. We had been delighted to welcome Paul, Norma and "Bat Out Of Hell" into the East End Gallery, as we had recently become a Motorcycle Friendly Venue...Of course, we needed a motorbike!

And at long last, Mike had chosen to layby this sculpture, in order to display her permanently in his study. Mike is thrilled. We are thrilled. And I have no doubt that all Paul's blood, sweat and tears will become insignificant when he enjoys the reward of his labour of love.

I have also proven that nobody looks at my appearance if they are in love with an artwork...

Onward to the Steampunk Pizza Party. What an occasion! Gem, who is a beautiful mix of a number of nationalities was resplendent in a multicoloured dress, made all the more striking by her multicoloured hair. Adam. who is not a short chap, was dressed in the loudest pair of trousers I have ever seen.

The catering was divine. A Kombi that doubled as a carrier of various kegs. A couple of blokes producing great food - canapes, pizza (naturally) and three different flavours of the best doughnuts I have ever eaten. Guests who really revelled in the Steampunk theme. Those boring gits who couldn't be bothered (but turned out to be great people in spite of their lack of imagination).

The wine flowed, the grounds were admired and the guests mingled. The tyre swing, unfortunately, malfunctioned halfway through the afternoon. The giant party games Connect 4 and Jenga were very popular. The almost bride and groom were justifiably jubilant.

I returned for a stint in the Gallery from four o'clock. I needn't have bothered. With only Jan for company, I could have remained at the party. And keep an eye on my beloved husband, who we all are aware is a boy in a man suit.

After a pre-evening nap, I waited for Michael to return home...And waited...And waited...I should have known better. I should have gone and collected him. When he eventually arrived home at nine-thirty, he was cheerfully rip-roaringly drunk. I still have no idea how he lurched his way to Station House without injury.

Gem filled me in later about some of  Michael's escapades. He'd had a high old time with some of the relatives and actually outlasted the bride and groom to be. A party to remember was definitely not by Michael.

Sunday was subdued. As we navigate the years just beyond middle age and before we become decrepit, we are often rudely reminded that we are not as young as we once were. But hell, in spite of the sometimes unpleasant consequences, life continues to be an adventure.

Before dementia...

Dressing gowns are the answer to life, the universe and everything...

"Bat Out Of Hell" and passenger...

The somewhat eccentric creator, Paul Kendall...

Meanwhile, at the Steampunk Party of the Century...

The bride and some interesting guests...

Hmmm...

Connect 4 ponderings...

THE GROOM...

With the bride and Dastardly (Mister Greg Burley)...

My alter ego...

Pixie on a swing...

Adventurer just returned from Africa...

Greg...

Jan...

The bride and groom.

A Punch In My Face, A Shave For My Back And Other Comedy Routines...

How on earth can it possibly be Friday again? We were back in the East End Gallery as per usual yesterday and enjoyed a steady stream of guests plus another of our Famous Artists' Play Days. Loaded around the Gallery table were Phil, Jan, Greg and Michael, all gasbagging away. Lunch was consumed with gusto and not much art was actually undertaken, but a great time was had by all.

Our three days out of the Gallery were utterly consumed at a rapid rate. Monday and Wednesday were thankfully at home, but there was still plenty to do. With some warm Spring weather and then windy conditions before a change, the garden was surprisingly dry. Throw a minor volcano of dirty washing and the general house chores into the mix and those two days vanished in a puff of smoke. Last night, we contemplated, with some wry amusement, having to cover some of our tender new shoots in our potted garden as we had a frost this morning.

Tuesday was our marathon day in the Big Smoke. We started off with our six-monthly visit to the divinely delicious Doctor Daram for our full body checks. Entering his inner sanctum, I was transfixed by his gorgeousness until he cheerfully voiced those fateful words - "Down to your bra and knickers, Kate."

The only good part about showing off all my wobbly bits was that I can heave a sigh of relief for the next six months after he delivered liquid nitrogen to all my spots on my hands and arms and removed any other suspect bit through a variety of approaches. As much as I dislike local anaesthetic, there was really no choice. So, I swore loudly, clutched Michael's hand and screwed up my face as Daram performed a punch biopsy on my cheek and shaved a piece off my back for closer examination. I was left with two neat little stitches on my face, which Daram will remove next week. Michael, the lucky bastard, managed to pass with flying colours and had nothing that needed to be removed.

As we were literally across the road from Murdoch Vet Hospital, we decided to drop in and collect some of Stella's puppy power dog log, everything a growing canine scallywag needs for health. Rachel, on the dispensary, was very helpful indeed. A handy find and useful information for future expeditions.

With Gem and Adam's Steampunk Pizza Party this weekend, we paused for a few essential supplies from Hurly Burly - a costume show in the centre of Perth. A rapid fire stop saw me in and out with a pocket watch and goggles for Michael and a hat, earrings and Steampunk firearm for me. Between Jan and ourselves, we now have all clothing and accessories for a truly splendid time at Gem and Adam's pre-wedding soiree.

The more mundane shopping was left until last. Chemist, supermarket, vino and finally Hills Fresh were all visited. We set off gratefully for home, the car bulging with purchases, including a bright red gerbera for the garden.

The Dynamic Duo of Pip and Stella were delighted to welcome us home. Pip no longer resembles the sad and arthritic little dog, who inhabited his Jack Russell suit earlier in 2019. He now jumps onto the couch in a single bound, plays noisily with Stella at the drop of a hat, pinches her toys to frustrate her and runs around the house or at the oval with her. Yesterday, he leapt off our bed without hesitation, a feat he has not performed for over a year. So much for his ruptured cruciate ligament. He has no apparent discomfort, a cheeky grin from ear to ear and a rediscovered joy for life.

As for Stella, she is a blast of pure energy,  of constant positivity, a beautifully natured soul who adores everybody and every day. She has pursued Happyness and grabbed it with all four paws. Toilet training has been successful and she has a plethora of sturdy rubber toys into which she can sink her teeth. Yes, she still chomps on the wrong items - our bedroom Ted has become a pirate as Stella removed one of his eyes, both sets of our thongs have been chewed and a plastic pot, with plant insitu, was too irresistible to ignore. All of these instances have occurred because we were too slack to respond to circumstances of potential puppy demolition.

Stella is now adored by all, except for Madame Ruby the cat. We have decided to change her name to CC (Cranky Cat) as she has no sense of fun and actively discourages Stella from Final Approach. Ever the optimist, Stella now believes she has a Mission from God to continue her efforts to win over the Fickle Fairweather Feline.

Not to be outdone, Red the Parrott launched himself skywards, only to seek emergency refuge on Michael's head. Red squawked loudly in protest, Stella was nonplussed and Michael was not amused. Red was sent packing and Confined to Barracks for the rest of the day.

The Steampunk Pizza Party tomorrow is just the beginning of a few weeks of socialising. Next Saturday is our Famous Sundowner, with Michael as the chief chef at the Sausage Sizzle and LIVE music from six o'clock. Earlier in the day will be sweet nibbles and beverages. Musos Lawrence Jones, Nick Childs and his fabulously fiddling Dad, Jan George and Shane Dasborough are all confirmed. Waiting with bated breath to hear back from Guy Slingerland and Luke Blanch.

The following weekend is Bronwyn's Baby Shower. As Nanny Kate, I intend to be in my element. Michael and the dogs will accompany me to the Big Smoke, helping Callum take apart the corner desk that will make its way back to Beverley with us. I'm not sure how handy Pip and Stella are, but I'll reckon they will make up for their lack of tradie knowhow with complete enthusiasm.

I must mention that the Beverley Heroic will take place the weekend of 12 - 13 October. For anybody who has ever clapped eyes on a bicycle, this annual event is a rollicking ride, even if, like me, you can't even mount a bicycle. Vintage bikes and riders, new bikes and riders, a bike show, cyclocross and some serious road races are all on the agenda, along with serious prizes such as the Most Heroic Hair.

Do yourselves a favour and join us for our Sundowner or the Beverley Heroic or performance of Road Dahl's "The Twits" at the Platform Theatre or the Beverley Rose Show, all scheduled for October. Have any thoughts on boring country towns?

Never a dull moment, in Heavenly Beverley.

What Doctor Daram didn't do!

This is a punch biopsy...

Sorry, couldn't resist...

Shave biopsy...

Our morning bed...

"I am out of here!"...

Portrait of Ted, minus one eye...

A rubber turkey, minus arms and legs...

Michael couldn't possibly have autism!

Red has the last word.

A Further Fabulous Facelift For Our Forbes Building

Back in late 2010, we longed to flee from the Big Smoke. Michael's physical and mental health had been broken by a combination of a job he loved and the children he loved. His work had involved long hours of problem-solving and innovative thinking all based around the movement of bulk materials. At Collie, at Whyalla, at Kwinana, at Laverton, at Paynes Find, at Kalgoorlie and a multitude of other towns and mining sites, Michael had crafted his extraordinary skills to face all challenges and fix a myriad of flaws.

Widowed in late 2008, his work/home balance became more and more out of kilter and exhausting. His son, an apprentice, had his own car and quickly resumed his life of learning his trade, going out with mates and having a girlfriend.

His daughter, entering her final year at school placed the teenage demands on him that had previously been dealt with by her mother. Both his children were unwilling to help consistently with household tasks such as cooking and cleaning. Michael remembers arriving home tired after a twelve-hour day, with no dinner preparations begun.

And gradually, their lack of assistance and absolutely no compromise wore Michael down. They wanted him at home, they rejected his relationship with me and they ignored his dog. So, Ruby came to live with me and three months later, Michael joined us all in my crowded duplex in the northern suburbs of Perth.

Our running away was hasty and intuitive. We saw a house we could afford in Beverley. Where? I'd never been to Beverley. Michael longed for the village atmosphere that had been intrinsically linked to his childhood. Then, my house sold in five days. We were suddenly committed to a move to the Wheatbelt. Within four weeks. A dinky little doer-upper, the House That Rocks, became ours. We signed the paperwork in a decrepit set of shops with very few redeeming features. Captain Helen Stubing - Real Estate Agent to the Stars and the alter ego of Captain Gavin Stubing - was renting the building and had her "office" in the first of the shops.

However, Michael was instantly smitten. There was no power in the building, so Helen helpfully provided Michael with a torch. I could hear his exclamations of delight. Then I was dragged through what I considered to be a complete and utter wreck. Rising damp, fretting brickwork, dodgy walls, a leaky roof and an overwhelming smell of damp and decay. There was a large safe left in a darkened cubicle. That bloody safe remains with us to this day...

So, we began our new life as Beverley Hillbillies. We took our cottage from tasteless to vivid. We renovated the kitchen and the bathroom, polished the floorboards, fenced the property, restored a second shed, secured the walls to the internal batons in every room and attacked the almost dead non-existent garden and lawn.

During our five very happy years there, we toiled over the garden to create a parkland paradise. We cried over multiple corpses, held our breath as plants hovered between life and death and exclaimed with relief at shrubs that blossomed after being at the brink of permanent departure. We battled bugs and grubs. We watered the entire garden every day during the summer months before we reticulated the property. The garden was our sanctuary. Eventually, we had to sell as the enormity of the garden maintenance became too much with the rise of the East End Gallery.

The former owners of the Forbes Building were eventually defeated by the scale of the renovations. We had a golden opportunity to buy the building. Everybody we knew - family, friends, acquaintances and strangers who wandered in off the street - thought we had totally lost the plot. I secretly thought Michael had totally lost the plot.

But his passion and enthusiasm were both contagious. He had a vision that I could only just glimpse. Shop 1's restoration in 2012 was completed with the help of locals as Michael had just had shoulder surgery and I was still recovering from a broken ankle. Further renovation of Shop 1 took place in winter 2015 with the superb assistance of a young and energetic German HelpXer named Madlen.

We worked on Shops 1 and 2 initially so we could source an income through renting them out. Shop 3's transformation was completed in September 2014. Michael's Man Cave was finished in December 2014. The Final Conquest was achieved in March 2016 after a marathon effort to tame to Abomidable Shop 4, the space probably in the worst condition of all the Forbes Building. The walls were leaning like that Tower in Pisa, the floor was accidentally a trampoline, the windows helpfully fell out and the fireplace looked like somebody had punched it repeatedly in the mouth. After a number of tantrums and the odd hospital admission, we celebrated the opening of the entire East End Gallery in autumn 2016.

Come the first six months of 2017. The time was swallowed by the Station House build and the seemingly endless squabbles with Western Power and the Water Corporation. When we eventually resolved these issues, after a very long seven months, we were spent.

I also had been determined to remove Michael from the winter cold from 2017 onwards. Instead of suffering from ongoing chest infections, we have escaped relatively lightly due to our absence from the ills that accompany the chilly months.

All this meant that the Forbes Building began to suffer from some neglect. This winter, Michael's workshop has leaked like a sieve and Shop 3 has not escaped either. We have marked X on the spots where containers are located to catch the drips and drizzles.

One space we no longer have to worry about is Shop 1, formerly a deli and tearooms during the 1970s. Lindsey and Kerryanne Doyle, surely amongst the most hardworking couples I know, had a dream to provide Kerryanne with her very own beauty salon. She had previously rented a shop further up the main drag, but some of the space was unusable and the rent was higher. They approached us to rent Shop 1 long term. We were delighted to accept.

Lindsey's renovation has transformed the shop, now U Beauty and Hair, operated by Kerryanne. There is no way any former punters would recognise the space, that had previously presented as tired and grotty back in 2012. We are the luckiest landlords in the world.

Don't just take my word for this. Book into Kerryanne's salon for any number of treatments. Revel in the ambience of a beautiful space and one very happy proprietor. Locals and visitors, do yourselves a favour and experience a makeover by Kerryanne. Vale Lindsey.

The last word is saved for Michael. Over the last week, he has toiled on the roof of our building. He has sealed and patched and secured and painted the workshop's many leaks. Next, he will move above Shop 3, where he has already identified the Likely Suspect Points. In spite of unseasonable heat and subsequent aches and pains, he has soldiered on magnificently.

However, today we are enjoying some free time. And all in well in our world.

Memories of the House That Rocks - Michael with Bently...

Our beloved Sascha...

A few fatheads...!

The Three Stooges on Pre-Rinse Cycle...

WTF?!

Stress relief after another long day...

Horizontal children at the House That Rocks...

Shop 1 - in The Beginning...

After the first reno...

Second reno...with Madlen...

Commander in chief...

The East End Gallery - Spring 2016...

Transformation of Shop 1 into U Beauty Country...

Dedicated Blokes Chair...

Hair washing and chair - very light and bright...

Second chair...

Beauty room...

Another angle of the Beauty room...

One very thrilled proprietor - Mrs Kerryanne Doyle.