“Do the mahi and get the treats”.

My two favourite songs of all time are about what home means.

We walked up the aisle to Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros on our wedding day and I’ve listened to To Build a Home by The Cinematic Orchestra probably thousands of times. My husband claims that this one is depressing, but I disagree. It’s just a little bit haunting, that’s all, and aside from that it’s marvellously beautiful.

Together, we have had lots of different homes.

We’ve lived in houses and apartments and flats. We’ve rented, we’ve bought, we did a few short stints of living with family when we were between places. We’ve lived with dogs and friends and a pyromaniac (if you know, you know). We’ve lived in one room and in the city centre and in the suburbs. We’ve been all over the show, really.

We’ve raised our daughters in two different homes and now it’s time for our third. A place to stay in for a long time. A place to develop roots and to rest; to not be constantly trying to move forward onto the next goal. 

This home will have a bigger purpose than just being a placeholder.

We’ve never lived somewhere for longer than a year and a half. And that was when we were flatting with some very dear friends before we moved halfway down the country (but in saying that, we live in a very small country so it’s only about an eight hour drive). 

So this permanency and reliability of not always moving and looking for the next best thing will be a big change for us. 

And I can’t wait. It might be more of a challenge for my husband, but we’ll see how he goes.

We moved down here because this is where we wanted to raise our family and we are so happy that we did. This is where my husband grew up and there are beautiful beaches and parks and very little traffic. Housing was a lot more affordable when we moved down just over two years ago now and bought our first home (it is certainly less so now), and every day we feel so lucky that we bought when we did. It is an immense privilege to live here.

Our first home that we owned was a 70 sqm unit with a sunny backyard. We loved that place. I was heavily pregnant when we moved in and we sat on the floor on our first night, eating pizza while looking around and marvelling that it really was ours. My husband gave the whole place a fresh coat of paint and this is where he got to try his hand at plumbing and more house-y DIY things for the first time. We learnt a lot there and thought, “oh yeah, this whole renovation thing isn’t too hard.” 

We moved on a year later because we were after a bit more room; baby #2 was floating away in the back of our minds. At Christmas 2019 we came across a massive, project home, listed online with the title “do the mahi and get the treats”. We saw it and thought, “yeah, let’s give it a go.” So we put an offer in and to our surprise it got accepted. This was back when the housing market was just beginning to quickly ramp up and we were stoked because we got quite a bargain.

We were fully aware of why we got this home for the price we did. It didn’t scare us at the time as much as it probably should have. We knew that the problem could be fixed; but we were naive about how much of a roller coaster that it would be. 

And so we had our first renovation experience where what needed to be done was beyond the cosmetic. And we discovered how scary it is when what’s wrong with your house is water. 

Water can go anywhere and everywhere. You can’t always see where it has gone which can make it tricky.

In the 70s and 80s, houses could be consented with the earth backed right onto the foundational walls. This is a problem because soil has moisture in it and over many years this can permeate the walls. 

When we first saw our home, the bottom story had multiple puddles on water on the floor, along the wall that the soil was against. You could see water running down the wall when it rained.

We watched people at the open home notice the problem and then leave immediately.

But we reckoned we could fix it. And we did. But the time, money, and emotional energy (it’s quite a sinking feeling knowing that water is flooding into your home) was what really got to us. It was a bigger deal than we naively understood when we bought it.

We got the problem fixed by roofers who used  a specialist product which is guaranteed to seal and waterproof the foundational walls for 15 years. We also got the bottom floor (there are three stories) fully insulated and internal walls built. The water issue is no longer and that whole floor is completely dry now and safe, but it always plays on the back of our minds. A fun roulette of what if, you know?

And the waterproofing issue was just the tip of the iceberg, really, in this monster of a project.

The house and garden had been neglected for many, many years. What was originally a small orchid had overgrown into blackberry bramble that was taller than us, all on a steep bank. We didn’t actually know what the garden was like when we bought it because you physically couldn’t set foot into it. A machete, chainsaw, and scrub cutter became my husband’s best friends. Inside, everything from the curtains to the walls were covered in mould and mildew, simply from not being taken care of.

With the help of family we scrubbed and cleaned and cleared until we weren’t scared to breathe inside. COVID-19 lockdowns hit just a few weeks after we moved in and my husband made the most of not having to commute anymore to really get stuck in. We stripped wallpaper, painted, plumbed, tiled, built our own kitchen cabinetry, and got new flooring sorted. We replaced as much Dux Quest as possible when the pipes burst and we found ourselves with a small flood. My husband did 95% of the work all by himself and I’m so proud of him. He worked through so many late nights and weekends to get it done. Some very kind friends helped us paint the exterior and then all of a sudden, about a week after our second baby arrived, we came across a section that ticked most of our boxes.

The house wasn’t finished - it was close - but not quite there. We put it on the market anyway, hoping that it would sell so that we could move on to build our home at the beach. Eventually it did, and now we have a sold sign out front (with full buyer discloser about the history of course). We move out next month and we are so relieved that it’s all over. To be living somewhere where the garden is flat and safe for our children to play and to be within walking distance to the beach. To be honest, I’m the one excited about the beach as my husband isn’t really a beachy person (his concerns over what lurks in the shallows stem from getting pinched as a child by a crab). 

Ultimately, home is where the heart is after all. But it will also be so nice to not worry when it rains, even though that we know logically that everything is fine. 

I’m so looking forward to just stopping for a bit. And to being at home with my family without always preparing to leave.