Heavenly Beverley : Just Keep Swimming...

I am delighted to report that my warped sense of humour has returned. God knows how much I require that attribute at present.

There has been an encouraging development of late, revolving around the supply of Rapid Antigen Tests. We have gone from having a total lack of RATs to a decided avalanche of RATs. After I discovered that the initial five RATs had been pre-ordered, due to the RAT Division of the Health Department setting up a confusing and complicated system, I was able to receive the first of our tests through a Northam pharmacy. Then, I have been able to obtain more through the State Health Department. I have been able to catch up our other RATs from the local Beverley pharmacy, following the resolution of the initial hurdle. And apparently, we will receiving (wait, there's...) more (!) RATs from the State shortly. I will have RATs coming out of my ears.

Last Thursday, we sold Digger. This should have been a wonderful event for both the buyers and us. We had received a great many enquiries after we had listed Digger. We held the caravan for a day to allow a chap travelling from Geraldton to view Digger as he and his good lady wife had missed other opportunities to buy a van because of their location. He was delayed another day due to gastro and finally turned up, very apologetic and keen to negotiate.

We ended up discounting the caravan as he could see the variety of repairs that he could not do himself. An hour after he left, towing Digger, he was back again. Michael was asleep and I had gone to the post office. The caravan hitch (supposedly top of the wozza) had failed and the caravan had stopped dead. Neither Digger nor his vehicle was damaged but he needed a new hitch. For which our buyer was reimbursed. Hence, our finances have not been supplemented to the extent we wished. The good news is that we have paid the rates, the credit card, the loan to Zip Money for my CPAP equipment, some outstanding artist payments and sunk a fair amount back into the housing loan. All I have left to achieve is some annoying paperwork to transfer the ownership of the caravan.

Vincent Street is still a shemozzle. Apparently a couple of workers have contracted COVID. Any physical activity ground to a halt on Friday. We are less than four weeks from the opening of the Easter Art Prize, the Annual Tennis Tournament, our Sundowner, markets and a variety of other tourism offerings. Our heroic Town Planner keeps having nervous breakdowns, as closing the entire street was supposed to expedite matters. Easter marks the beginning of our tourist season and Vincent Street is supposed to be sealed by then, rather than looking like a worse-for-wear suicidal rally track as it currently does.

Then, there has been another saga involving that telecommunication Titanic, Telstra. Honestly, I couldn't make this stuff up... This tale of woe began with poorer than usual mobile coverage (which is pretty hard as we live in the Telstra black hole of the known universe) and intermittent internet access. Multiple residents, including us, began contemplating the need for phone updates.

My reason for ringing Telstra was entirely unrelated to this issue of hopeless signal. I wanted to sign into my Telstra account, but I had forgotten my password. How unusual... Over five hours later, having spoken to five separate Telstra staff, I actually sorted the problem myself by thinking outside the square. Although I told each and every one of them that my old email address was kaput, they sent to link to reset my password...to the old email address. This lot would have destroyed the patience of a saint.

I took a deep breath, used the old email address as the username of the account and when I was rewarded with a link, I sent the code to my mobile phone, rather than the defunct email address. Voila! My reward was ability to enter my Telstra account once more.

In the meantime, I'd complained to our local member Mia Davies' office and spoken to the charming Wendy, explaining the trials of both my account debacle and that Michael's phone (a Galaxy S9) had become completely non communicative. I also rang the Telecommunication Ombudsman to complain about Telstra's dreadful performance in trying to get into my account.

Finally, on Friday, with Ms. Davies' office receiving an tsunami of complaints, a reluctant Telstra announced to the Shire of Beverley that there had been a hardware failure in the "system" and they were waiting for a part. Telstra failed to explain the nature of this breakdown or when the fault would be rectified. Surely, an organisation the size of Telstra would have parts on hand...Tell that one to the Marines.

I have met (again) a kindred spirit in Beverley Station's Artist-in-Residence Ros Newick. She is incredibly talented, with a wicked sense of humour. Thanks to Ros, her her lovely friends who were visiting her came in the Gallery today and bought a variety of gifts. Plus, yesterday's generous guests from Gin Gin bought one of John Ives' fantastic Pilbara prints, as well as a lavender heat pack and some lavender potpourri. All our guests have managed to find their way to the Gallery and delighted us by supporting our artists.

Ros and I are hatching a plan to coincide with "Spring Back To Beverley" on the weekend of 24/25 September. I have just discovered that meerkats can, in fact, spring...