Heavenly Beverley : Ultimate Versus Penultimate

This blog entry was actually written last night, but I ran out of oomph before I could post...

I have a blast of hysterical silliness entering my bones. This reaction may have been caused by the Ultimate Day of Stressful Events, as opposed to the Penultimate Day Before The Workshop...But before I launch forward into a summary of my Testing Time, I am, once more, the victim of my own interpolation.

My Darling Dad, for those who aren't yet aware of his influence on my life, was a wordsmith. He always loved language. Words and their meanings. Antonyms and synonyms. His joy was in a dictionary, the fatter the better, and his beloved Roget's Thesaurus. He was both amused and irritated if those around him used words incorrectly. A great example of this was the utilisation of "ultimate" as opposed to "penultimate". Some assume that the addition of the prefix "pen" to "ultimate" merely adds emphasis. This notion is entirely incorrect. One of the meanings of "ultimate" is last, hence my youngest child, Mister Alex Hawes was nicknamed "Mo" from "Ultimo", also meaning "the end"! The word "penultimate" is actually "second last". So, this is the penultimate evening prior to Michael's workshop, whereas today has been the ultimate day of stress, using one of its other meanings - utmost.

Thus, I feel rather like Prince Hamlet of Denmark, pondering one of life's traumatic trials. Although I don't think I shall perish before tonight's curtain fall, I also have that sensation that I have been run over by a truck, repeatedly. Maybe, I insulted that formidable diva Samantha Connor in another dimension and she has taken to me with her wheelchair. Either that or I have killed a lot of Chinamen in a past life (yes, I know that is entirely politically incorrect, please forgive me) and I am paying for my crimes with large dollops of penance.

The day began with my usual reluctance to rise from bed. Given my severe obstructive sleep apnoea, refreshed sleep is a distant memory until I start my trial of a CPAP machine in December. Canine poop patrol was followed by kitty litter refreshment and the restocking of the feline gods' biscuits and water. Then, I checked my emails, drank my first cup of tea for the morning and considered my next move. I harangued Michael to contact Frameswest, the Northam company that was supplying our two additional MiG welders, gas bottles and other bits and pieces. We agreed Michael and I would travel up this afternoon and collect the gear. Plus, after putting an SOS out on Facebook for some anvils, the fantastic John Hawke has come to our rescue and his awesome good lady Tess will be delivering the anvil tomorrow afternoon.

Thus, we decided that Michael could not lose two or three hours out of today when he was consumed by construction of the welding curtain frames. So, I volunteered to drive the one hundred and forty kilometre round trip to Northam. And that was how the trouble began.

Having forgotten to take our (flat) spare tyre to the Beverley Tyre Service, and noticing a slow leak in its replacement, I started my trip there. Unfortunately the flat spare was "rooted" and could not be repaired. A new tyre was ordered and I set out, my heart in my mouth, to Northam for all the welding requirements. Michael had pumped up the tyre before I left, but the leak was even obvious to me at Frameswest in Northam. Hence I hoped to visit Tyrepower in town and pump up the tyre again to get me home.

Alas this was not possible. The replacement tyre was also stuffed. A repair in Marble Bar had been inadequate and a sizable fracture had signed its fate. So now we needed another new tyre and I had just spent the last of our funding at Frameswest...

Frantically searching for a solution, I rang our fabulous project officer at the Wheatbelt Health Network. An emergency payment was authorised, paid and the new tyre was duly fitted. Then I collected a small roast for dinner, filled Lily with diesel and set out for home.

I arrived just before six o'clock. I am absolutely exhausted, both mentally and physically. Luckily, Michael has best buddy Gary coming to help him organise the work spaces tomorrow.

I am sure that like any nervous performer, Michael will be fine on Wednesday for the launch of the two-day workshop.

Me - I am not so sure...