Heavenly Beverley : A Week Of Changing Fortunes...

This has definitely been a week of altering circumstances. I have felt as if I was permanently stuck on the staircase inside Hogwarts, never having a clue which direction I would head next. I have seen the good, the bad and the ugly. I have felt joy and sadness, experienced wistful thinking and happy anticipation, been assaulted by disbelief and reassured by kindness.

The overwhelming feature over the last week has been the brutality of the heat. The December average maximum of around 32 degrees has been exceeded every day, yesterday a whopping 42.6 degrees (for those of you familiar with Fahrenheit, that's 108.7 in the old money). Whilst travelling to Perth yesterday, the outside road temperature topped 45 degrees.

So we have been watering every morning and some evenings, just keeping our garden of pots alive. Washing has dried almost instantly. The footpaths and air have been too hot to walk the dogs. I was unable to touch the car's steering wheel until I'd run the airconditioning for a few minutes. The East End Gallery, which has no cooling except for insulation and fans, turned into a still and sweltering box after four days of stifling heat. Michael was sensible enough to close the Gallery mid-afternoon and return home to the coolness. There are times I thank the universe for the invention of air conditioning.

Today is still very warm but the wind has turned. We are no longer being buffeted by the blast furnace of northerlies. The air is gentler and milder and we have flung open the house. All in preparation for the next onslaught of summer in just a few days.

1 December was the eleventh anniversary of Joan's death, Michael's second wife. Long term grief isn't an emotion that can be neatly folded up and tucked away. Michael spent another introverted day with his memories, processing the unpredictability of his life's journey. Just acknowledging this huge and sudden upheaval in 2008 and walking a parallel path with him was the best I could offer him. Grief is so often very lonely.

Monday and Tuesday we hid inside the house, catching up of the mundane chores. Wednesday, we were back in the Gallery, moving artworks around our wonderful space and dabbling in yet another spot of cleaning. My battle with the dust is always neverending.

Michael began to create more of his "Magda" fridge magnet metal spiders once again. Producing multiples of "Magda" is time-consuming, exacting and fiddly. Only watching Michael gives a picture of the precision and diligence required to make his spiders. We have been deluged with rolling bills for weeks now and I feel as if I am frantically treading water all the time. Selling spiders may give us more breathing space to just return to the status quo.

Thursday was spent with five of our fantastic artists. John, Nada, David, Jan and Michael were all in the Gallery, dropping off and picking up, making cranes for next year's Hiroshima Day and moving artworks around, yet again. I continue to be amazed at the Gallery's resemblance to the TARDIS. No matter how many pieces we receive, we always seem to be able to squeeze a bit more space to display them.

Thursday was also the day a fairy godmother left us two bottles of vino at IGA to be enjoyed at our leisure. I strongly suspect that Santa's helper, one Linda Lewis, was responsible although she denied this accusation to my face. That was an unexpected and delicious surprise.

This generosity has helped soften another knock to our lives. Way back in late 2016, we were presented with two art pieces to sell on a local couple's behalf. One piece was returned. the other was sold. In the five years since we opened the East End Gallery, I have never failed to pay a seller. These people are accusing me of just that. They are now threatening legal action. I can't believe that they have come back after more than two years and claim we haven't given them the proceeds of this painting. This episode has been very trying for us both and is bound to continue.

Friday was Teagan's funeral, which I had intended to attend. The day just ended up being too crammed. I collected Alex from his home and picked up good friend Greg. I shopped. I waited eagerly for news of my granddaughter's imminent arrival. At 1.35 in the afternoon of 6 December, I became Nannie Kate. Welcome to the world, Imogen Ivy.

I think Teagan, being such a warm and loving and energetic young woman, would have loved the progress of the day - her official departure heralding in Imogen's arrival. Plus, another family memory - a very long time ago, Callum's Dad and I were married on that day. Rather sweet...

Today, I have had a slob day. I have been in and out of the Gallery, whilst carrying out necessary jobs. Alex has helped me with tidying and washing and cooked a delicious dinner for us. On and off, I have thought of and treasured my Dad. Today was also his birthday.

Geez, I miss my Dad.