Perth Writer's Festival

I had planned this weekend for several months.  Merv went into respite while I relaxed and later in the week would be attending the Writers Festival at UWA.  I never considered we would be packing and getting ready for the move of a life time.  I had planned to put our house on the market this weekend but it's been sold and it's now time to pack.
I wasn't sure if I should just scratch the writer's festival or whether I should take the time to go.  I figured next year I wont be able to attend so I decided to make up time packing and cleaning tomorrow and in the evenings.
Over two days at the festival I attended eight sessions.  Each session comprises of two to three authors and a speaker who oversees each session.  The authors always have something in common, whether its the setting or the plot or the genre of their books.  I am always inspired.
My first session was called, 'The Woman Who Changed her Brain.' Barbara Arrowsmith Young was born without spacial awareness deficiency of her left side and had various learning issues.  I was amazed how she learnt how to overcome her learning difficulties and has created programs which initially helped her but now has helped many others throughout the world.  I bought her book.  Hopefully I will find time to read it soon. Other sessions I attended focused on: crime, Australian towns, community grief, families and their secrets and the current plight of refugees throughout the world.
Throughout the following sessions the auditoriums were filled to capacity with many being turned away.  I soon learnt after each session you have thirty minutes to move to the next one.  A quick toilet break, a bite to each while walking across the university grounds and getting into line awaiting the next session on my list.  There were a good range of topics and authors for each time slot but it often meant walking across lawns, up steps while reading the festival map!
It was hot both days but I wouldn't have missed it.  I feel more inspired to read and to write. 
There was just one thing I found annoying.  Not the authors or the organisers but the audience.  Many times I found myself sitting next to women who pulled out their iPhone and checked their social media.  One woman who was almost as old as me, pulled out her iPad as well as her phone.  I grunted for all to hear!  I wanted to wack her but refrained from doing so.  I couldn't see the point of them attending if their attention was on their device and not the authors.   Maybe I'm becoming a grumpy old woman!

Missy Mel

It is a term of endearment.  Missy Mel just stuck.  A name I call my daughter when it is just her and me together.  It's usually when I trying to get her attention or just to give her a hug.
The last twelve months have been more than trying for her.  Her beloved housemate Harriet left for a t year to access therapy and she was replaced by a older woman who berated her verbally and threatened her with violence. 
Mel's Grandmother died in May last year followed six weeks later by her boyfriend Damien.  He died from lung cancer at the tender age of 35.  Mel sat by his bed holding his hand in the weeks before he succumbed to the cancer.
It was a difficult year.
By December last year she had more than she could cope with.  Continuously she would ring me in tears, telling stories of her offensive housemate and the lack of support from staff.
Mel cried, I cried.  It just became too much.  I spoke with the resident manager but nothing was resolved.  Mel wanted to move out of the unit to another but permission was denied.
My brain went into lockdown, there was only one answer.  She had to leave and come home.
In hindsight it was the very best thing.  After a few weeks Mel became a happy, contented person once again.  There were a few meltdowns on the way through but all in all it was the very best decision.
I only thought yesterday if she was still at the villas we would be moving her out about this time and going through the rigours of sorting out her stuff.  How does a person fill one bedroom and ensuite with so much stuff?  At least the sorting and chucking out of her  'treasures' has already happened!
Mel is looking forward to moving with us to our new house closer to the ocean.  She has her own bedroom, a bathroom she doesn't have to share with everyone and an entertainment room with two entrances.  The sliding door opens into the back garden.  There is a lot of work to be done but just like here Mel will do her part and our house will become a home.