At Last I'm Going to be a Mother-In-Law!

The saga of the Engagement Ring has been subliminally present for the last six months, rather like an intermittent itch on my bum. My hopelessly romantic son, Callum, had devised a "will you marry me" speech, location, and of course the ring, all with the deepest secrecy. In Venice, naturally. I mean, where else could he possibly propose to the light of his life, Bronwyn, other than in the City of Love?

With more stealth than Kingsman, Callum chose the ring for his Intended Bride, even temporarily nicking one of her other rings so he would get the correct size and secretly paid off the Rock. We were aware of this situation, hilariously when Cal needed to temporarily borrow cash from us when a ring payment was due at an inconvenient financially tight moment. To keep the Secret until the Perfect Moment.

I had suggested he could do without the stress the Rock's Secrecy and propose to Bron at any other time over the last few months. With a combination of his customary poise and stubbornness, Cal politely told me to sod off and mind my own business. He was determined to do this His Way.

And so he has. Facebook has recorded for posterity a montage of champagne, roses and the proposal. Did Bron have any inkling of their Special Moment? She may have thought that the possibility was there, but Callum appears to have blown her away. That's my boy.

So different from our engagement. Michael had been suitably reluctant to launch into a third marriage but I was having none of that. I wore him down over a couple of weeks by almost continuously humming the Wedding March. Eventually, driven by sheer desperation for peace, Michael knelt gallantly in front of me (we were both in our trackie daks) and asked me to marry him. My response? "Fuck yeah. What took you so long?"

We then had the briefest of engagements, a wonderfully casual wedding in the backyard of the House that Rocks, including the song "Love Shack", a BBQ for eighty people (with BYO meat, drinks and chairs) and the ultimate luxury of a blow-up wading pool so guests could cool off in the January heat. The groom sipped a double Scotch for fortification at the altar. Callum gave me away. Vanessa was my bridesmaid and Alex was the ring bearer and Chief BBQ Cook. Truly a wedding to remember.

I have no doubt that Callum and Bronwyn will also have the Wedding of their Dreams.  There will not be a BBQ, wading pool or an interrupting sheep anywhere near their nuptials. And Bronwyn is my ideal of a "Heavenly" daughter-in-law. A gorgeous strawberry blonde firecracker, she is quite able to give Cal the Rounds of the Kitchen if he turns into a Pompous Git. Which I have witnessed and approved on a few occasions.

To Rob and Michelle, Bronwyn's parents - I congratulate you both. You two have raised a fabulous young woman. I could not think of a more perfect life partner for Callum.

Now for the Decision. What will I wear as Mother of the Groom?!

Callum has always engaged in some unusual pastimes, such as planking in his kitchen...

or putting himself in the hands of a rather dubious medico.

Bronwyn, on the other hand, appears to be far more refined...

but don't get between her and her dinner!

Before Bron came into his life, Callum's passion was Latin and Ballroom dance

with a touch of Burlesque thrown in for good measure.

Having met, they shared many mutual interests, such as defending the Alliance...

or impersonating the Phantom of the Opera.

 And having eyes only for each other.

And now my beloved son and daughter-in-law to be are embarking on the next chapter of their lives together. And where better to start that adventure than Venice?

Congratulations to Cal and Bron (and Ragnar our grand-cat of course).

We Are (Finally) In!

My attempts to keep up to date with "Heavenly Beverley" have been quite frankly, sadly lacking. This woeful situation has not come about due to an aversion to writing or a complete absence of subject matter. Beverley has an endless array of individual characters, all worthy of mention. Not to mention the ongoing adventures of ourselves - the aforementioned Beverley Hillbillies.

I have recorded tales of teeth and telephones. I have written of the Three Stooges, Madame Cat and the Pirate Parrot. And mice. Ye Gods, have we had mice. Fortunately, with the advent of winter, mouse numbers have declined dramatically, along with various species of flying fiends. And after an unusually warm June, the cold weather has hit with a vengeance. We have even resorted to buying the Pirate Parrot a furry little tent.

The good news is that we have spent the last few nights in Station House, marvelling at her efficiencies of insulation and sealed windows and doors. The House that Rocks used to leak like a sieve and was an excellent barometer for heat, cold and wind strength. Having to leave doors ajar in the Residence was great in warm weather and bloody awful once the nights became somewhat cooler. Station House, even with only our oil heater for additional warmth, is seriously cosy.

The bad news is all to do with the all our belongings that I have begun unpacking. Boxes and boxes and boxes have been opened, creating a sea of cardboard and newspaper all over our previously beautifully clean lino. It's been rather like a manic Christmas, unearthing objects that we haven't seen for six months. And then realising we have a substantial lack of display units.

Last week, we undertook a voyage of mammoth proportions around Ikea to remedy the lack of storage space. So far, Michael has constructed an eight cube unit and finished our new desk. Unfortunately, these furniture pieces have not provided enough nooks and crannies for all the items that need new homes. As a result, Vanessa has borrowed Goldie today for another assault on Ikea to buy two extra units which will hopefully supply the move our mountain of belongings from the floor, table, chairs and beds into their rightful places.

With a combination of rain, mud, no outdoor paving and three dogs and Madame Cat, the outdoors are definitely coming indoors. The pristine lino has a layer of dirt under the ocean of newspaper and boxes. Sascha has also forgotten the intricacies of navigating the dog door, which has resulted in undesirable puddles adding to the mess.

So, exhaustion is to blame for my lack of attentiveness to my writing. Since Thursday, I have fallen into bed with a monotonously early regularity due to aching joints and throbbing feet. The end is not yet in sight, but the number of boxes has been reduced thankfully.

As for our Ikea furniture, Michael still has a wardrobe and two units (one pretty huge) to construct. The fearless Jan and her sidekick Ross expertly constructed the table lamps, which enjoying a glass of vino. Then they were galvanised into service for a second time, helping Vanessa unload more Ikea flatpacks. I figure I'll have a crack at putting together the occasional tables. Nothing more complicated. I still have nightmares of a broken drawer and a portable wardrobe in an upside down configuration from previous forays into Ikea.

Today, Michael will tackle dirt reduction in the form of outside carpet, fill in the Problem Child's latest hole and raise the height of outside the dog door so Sascha can get in and out with more dignity and ease.

Wish us luck and stay tuned for our next exciting instalment.

An oasis of order amongst the chaos...

Beautiful new lamps, our bedside tables and the bedhead, complemented by cat hair and sand on our quilt cover...

My book corner in our bedroom

Our scrumptious kitchen!

Michael with trade assistant grappling with the Ikea desk...

and the finished product!

Ikea flatpacks...

and more flatpacks.

However, the Beverley Hillbillies have set up the bar - for medicinal purposes, of course.

The Pig Ate My Mobile Phone...

My brother Michael (as opposed to my husband Michael) lives in the Far (Deep?) North of Queensland. In Cooktown, precisely. Although larger than Beverley, Cooktown - with a population of approximately 2300 - bears little resemblance to our Wheatbelt town of 1700.

For a start, beer apparently is considered to be part of a balanced diet and is often consumed for breakfast. And Cooktown's retail heart, which is centred around Charlotte Street, offers visitors all the comforts of home in a beautiful tropical location. Except when the wind drops.

Yesterday, we welcomed guests from Townsville into the East End Gallery. Two-thirds of their way around Australia, they have friends living in Cooktown in a stunning location high up overlooking the town. Cracking a tinnie is a year-round pastime, socially, dietarily and medicinally. And when there is no wind, Cooktown shuts down. The entire town goes fishing.

Anyway, I've digressed. A few weeks ago, brother Michael declared that his dream 60th birthday would be in the company of his siblings and Dad. On the Sunshine Coast, where Dad lives in a splendid care centre. Being the farthest away, I have become, naturally, the Organiser for this extravaganza.

Brother Simon has the excuse that he will be in attendance at a medical conference in Brisbane. However, we will catch up with him in Bundaberg on our Great Queensland Odyssey. Brother David and possibly lovely wife Kerin and two international students will join us at an Airbnb house.

The only snag is the communication difficulty with Michael, the Birthday Boy. Mike had a shared mobile phone and no computer. I spent most of the last week just tracking him down. We knew Mike lived in a guesthouse in Cooktown.  After drawing a blank, I called the local police. Robyn is one person I will personally thank if we make it to Cooktown. Without breaking confidentiality, she was able to point me in the correct direction. And she suggested she could perform a welfare check on Michael if we couldn't contact him.

A breakthrough on Friday. Using somebody else's (?) phone, Mike rang me. The communal mobile phone he shared with his wife (who lives on their property - don't ask...) had gone missing. As this particular property is on the banks of the Endeavour River, there are a variety of animals at this location. Saltwater crocodiles inhabit the river. Feral pigs are common visitors. Michael's conclusion was that a pig ate the phone.

Before we all descend into hysteria, which I did, this is normality in far north Queensland. And Mike's final words to me were that he would have to get his own mobile phone. I am still waiting with bated breath.

So I am wrangling a 60th birthday without being in touch with the birthday boy. I have no doubt that all will be well in the end. When Mike eventually makes contact with me again, I will book his ticket from Cairns to Brisbane.

That bloody pig caused an unnecessary amount of angst. I hope the phone gave him indigestion.

They are a bit different up there...

What I used to think all pigs were (aawww)...

Yes, I know pigs are intelligent...

And then there's Porky Pig...

In reality, feral pigs are not particularly attractive, either in appearance or temperament...

 

And this is where they roam...

Peppa Pig a Suspect - absolutely not!

Stay tuned.

Wow Wow Wow! Have a Look at Us (the East End Gallery) Now...!

As we've moved at full throttle into our tourism season, I felt it was high time we had a thorough update of the East End Gallery. We continue to be ecstatic at the Gallery's progress and the generous comments by our supporters and guests. Most of all, we would like to thank our amazingly talented artists for believing in us and trusting their works to us. We are delighted to report that the East End Gallery now showcases the art of forty-seven artists. Whoa.

What started as a nebulous goal five years ago has become a reality beyond our wildest dreams. We took an almost derelict building and dragged her kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century. Michael, with the help of a close-knit band of Merry Men, performed miracles. With a "Grand Designs" vision for the Forbes Building on a cordial budget, we have succeeded in creating a work of art out of her. Not that we have finished. The hundred-year-old building needs ongoing maintenance and repairs. Just for the moment, we are catching our breath and basking in her glory. Even the ghost who inhabited the workshop and used to move Michael's tools for fun seems to have left us to our own devices. Perhaps she realised we wanted to save the building and would do no harm.

And so, here are a few snippets about our newest artists (and some favourites).

Neil Elliott is a Perth Hills sculptor and painter whom we have now adopted. His subjects are quirky, attention-catching and frequently hilarious. We have been great fans of Neil and we are thrilled he has joined us. We are also lucky that he has given us three paintings at a "Sale Rate". Like our very own Shane Moad, Neil is a critically acclaimed and established artist who has priced his works in our Gallery with a generous discount.

Shane's works are also very keenly sought. His principal outlet, JahRoc in Margaret River, sells Shane's distinctive and majestic paintings at a far higher rate than we do here at the East End Gallery.

Likewise, Brian Aylward, a long-standing artist who produces exquisite oils and pastels, can also be viewed and bought here in our Gallery.

Gary Waters is our fourth metal artist and has left three of his imaginative metal sculptures here for our guests' enjoyment. As Gazzart, he produces his works from discarded agricultural and domestic equipment. An old iron has been transformed into a boat, a hook has become a stand and scarifiers have formed the base of an unusual tealight holder.

Alan Carmichael, the Man from Balladonia, has presented us with a folio of stunning scenes from mining areas south of Kalgoorlie and the extraordinary woodland and Goldfields bush that have created this magical landscape. A3 in size and utterly inspiring, Alan's photographs will astound our guests.

David Mizen, a Local Hero, still has "Starstorm" available for purchase in the East End Gallery. David, who possesses the patience of a saint, has produced a photograph of unbelievable beauty. Taken at Yenyening Lakes near Beverley, he has highlighted the driftwood of the salt lake, whilst capturing a lightning bold and a streaking sky of stars and the planet Jupiter. I guarantee "Starstorm" will leave any of our guests breathless.

Bev Vivian, silk and felt Designer to the Stars has restocked her display stands today. Her label "Beverley V' has become one of our best selling items. Netted silk and felt incorporated into some of her pieces is absolutely exquisite. Bags, hats, scarves, flowers, purses and wraps are all part of her repertoire and she is an immense asset to our Gallery.

We, of course, have other textile artists. Meredith Lee-Curtis from Cunderdin is a long-standing friend and creator of Dandaloo Dilly (Pretty Bags). Meredith works full-time for the Shire and assists her partner Kim, who managed the Agricultural College. In all her spare time (!), she handmakes her colourful range of bags, quilts, oven mitts and even doggie bandanas. Meredith sources her material from indigenous artists, so her pieces are authentic Australian designs.

The quilts, paintings and soaps by York artist Margaret Gabrielle-Harding have also been featured in the East End Gallery for some time. Originally a Facebook friend, I spied one of Margaret's art quilts online and concluded she was destined for greatness. Some are silk, some are antique material and all are eye-catching and colourful.

Along with Bev Vivian, "Mick" and Jenny Cotter are another two of our financially successful artists. Mick, former politician, pastoralist and miner is now in his eighties and still turns Goldfields wood in superb giftware. His wife Jenny is one of our two jewellery designers, along with silversmith Steve Pease from Margaret River. Steve and Michael go way back to teenagehood and I believe were both fairly notorious at being in the pub when they ought to have been at TAFE.

Finally, I think I should give mention to local leadlight artist, David Lillico. A quietly spoken, entertaining and gifted glass artist, David has made suncatchers, stained glass birds on wooden perches and antique glass mirrors for the East End Gallery. He is also producing a wonderful leadlight window for our new home. With the name "Station House" David's design has two wine glasses and a background of grape vines. Methinks he knows us far too well.

We are currently experiencing some glorious winter weather, so do come and join us in the Gallery to view, appreciate and enjoy all our artists. We are also known to sample a glass of vino or two after four o'clock. We are always delighted to welcome new guests and old friends.

Neil Elliott

Gary Waters

Steve Pease

Meredith Lee-Curtis

Margaret Gabrielle-Harding

Quilts by Margaret Gabrielle-Harding, photographs by Colleen Sleer and pastels by Denese Borlini

Woodwork by Mick Cotter

Jewellery by Jenny Cotter

Dandaloo Dilly by Meredith Lee-Curtis

"Elephant Rocks" Shane Moad

 Quilt by Dandaloo Dilly and  "Gipsy Rose" by Asta Lander

"Starstorm" - David Mizen

"Station House" template - David Lillico

Leadlight birds - David Lillico and "Oxlake" by Murray Cook

"Gone Fishing" by Gary Waters

"Hooked" - Gary Waters

"Twists and Turns" - Gary Waters

Beverley V

Hats, scarves and bags - Bev Vivian

And more hats and flowers

Alan Carmichael - "Balladonia Shearing Shed"

 

Doesn't everyone have a motorcycle in the Gallery?

And tonight, we have a Presentation of Northam, Beverley and Pingelly Photographic Clubs - hosted by Colleen Sleer - Beverley photographic diva!

Comedy and Catastrophe @ Centrelink (Yet Again)

My gorgeous friend, Brenda, rang me today from the Big Smoke. We go way back, to a time we both had young autistic children. Brenda really hit the jackpot - she ended up with three marvellously quirky and utterly individualistic children all on the autism spectrum. I only had to contend with two of them.

As a result, Brenda and I share a sense of humour immediately understood by each other, which anybody else may regard as offbeat, unusual or downright loopy. At times, we have been hysterical with laughter as the only other choice was to break down in a puddle of grief. However, we never associated our children with this sadness. Despair was always the result of dealing with the insanity of agencies such as Centrelink and Disability Services Commission. The NDIA now appears to be having a decent shot at policy malfunction and issues of service provision and financial management as well.

Whilst the Asylum in Canberra huffs and puffs about "dole bludgers", "welfare cheats", "leaners and lifters", beating their chests in an aggressive way as possible to show power and control, they have absolutely no idea of what is actually happening in the real world. Within the agencies that are meant to follow their blanket stupidity.

Back to the phone call with Brenda. We were almost paralytic with laughter at the end of a long and entertaining conversation. About our old buddy and adversary Centrelink. Poor bastards - they couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery. And the staff are generally not at fault. They are at the mercy of their political slumlords and caught between their masters and the poor beleaguered public.

Here is the delicious scenario. All people with disabilities are assigned to a Disability Job Agency if they are assessed as being able to work. This capacity to work is assessed through a Job Capacity Assessment, which is administered by a Centrelink psychologist, who may or may not have any knowledge of their clients' conditions.

Keeping up? Then, if a disabled person, for example, Brenda's daughter works for an employer for five months and twenty-nine days and resigns, she does not need another Job Capacity Assessment before she applies for a different job. However, if she works over six months (which she did), she is required to undergo another Job Capacity Assessment before she can work again.

Now Job Capacity Assessments are not pleasant, but at least we used to be able to request appointments for these mental ordeals at a time of our choosing. Not anymore!

Clients and their carers can no longer book appointments for Job Capacity Assessments. Centrelink staff can no longer request specific days and times for these appointments. Apparently, Centrelink staff now need to check their screens, willing a vacancy to magically appear for a free Job Capacity Assessment space for their clients. And then, book their clients in before other staffers fill those rare, precious time slots.This is akin to playing wargames with other Centrelink operatives.

Who is responsible for this anarchy? Given the lack of information and consultation, I would have to guess that these changes have come from Higher Up.Social Services Minister Christian Porter and his partner in crime, Human Services Minister, Alan Tudge. There is a strong odour of Efficiency At All Costs, even if the result is a total disaster. Which it is.

So, along with drug testing Newstart recipients, keeping the same clients living seriously below the poverty line, tormenting Disability Support Pension holders with the Robodebt witch hunt and now taking aim at Aged Pensioners, Centrelink has had the Job Capacity Assessment process reduced to a demolition derby. Now staffers have a surreal and bizarre experience of having to book assessments as spots become available. Beautiful.

Brenda is a patient woman. She has waited for five months to secure that rare jewel - a Job Capacity Assessment for her daughter. And imagine her joy when her son left TAFE and needed a Job Capacity Assessment too.

Out of the blue, two vacant Job Capacity Assessment spots became available. Brenda was jubilant. By the time her Centrelink officer had entered information, one spot had already been taken. By Somebody Else. Brenda is built of sterner stuff. She proposed to bring BOTH her children to ONE Job Capacity Assessment appointment. This outrageous suggestion nearly caused an international incident.Brenda was unmoved and turned up with both her children. And surprise, surprise, TWO Job Capacity Assessments were completed in ONE appointment.

This is the reality of dealing with Centrelink. The politicians in their ivory towers may dictate and demand from their poor hapless public servants, but the juggernaut that is Centrelink is unwieldy and almost impossible to navigate. Think of the "Titanic" heading to oblivion. And the absolute tragedy is that the Asylum treats their employees with utter contempt.

So, Brenda and I shared and commiserated and giggled again about an outrageous system set up to fail the most vulnerable in our community. Awful. What is worse is that those in government who are meant to serve us appear to have no interest in their constituents.

I will repeat previous assertions.

• Sack the current crop of politicians
• Offer parliamentarians a base wage
• Give incentives to those who work for their constituents
• Politicians to govern for the many, not the few
• All political donations to be publically declared
• Politicians to receive superannuation payouts at the same age as the rest of us
• Perks to be assessed and curtailed and linked to performance.

Comments are welcome.

And the Robodebt beat goes on...

What happens every day in Centrelink...

What a feeling!

What we would really like from our politicians!