Friday, May 27, 2011

The House On The Hill, with the wheelchair ramp jetty

We have almost been in our little house for 12 months now, It is coming up to our homeloan-aversary.

We looked for what felt like an eternity for our first house, usually with about ten others looking for an entry level home, We spied on the other couples out of the corners of our eyes, they spied back... It was competitive, pushy and horrible.
I just wanted four bedrooms and room for a veggie patch, It would seem that an agents view on what this was this varied greatly...
 We put an offer in on two houses, one with a very dodgy building report and another we were out offered on...... We bid at one Auction, we were out bid.. .. a few days after the auction, my mother rang to say she had found the perfect house and we need to make an appointment.

I was sceptical we would be able to afford it and was sick to death of the disappointment, but to save the incessant appointment making phone calls, that come when my mum has a bee in her arse about something...... I called the agent. My mood having been a tad on the shitty side since the auction, meant I was a little terse on the phone.....I remember asking him if it was in fact, 4 bedrooms... not 3 bedrooms and a large linen press, as I was in no need to waste my time, he humoured my bad mood and we could get in... on our own... at 3pm that day.

I went through the usual paranoia that flows through emmasbrain..... Why can we get in on our own? ....Why can we see it so quickly?.... you know..... what's wrong with it?
I met the Agent with the midwife... I stepped out of the car and glanced briefly at the house and saw this.....


The view was amazing... Instead of getting excited, the view gave me a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach.. This surely meant there had to be something wrong with the house right?.. On my way to the front door I noticed this.......

This was the front garden in it's entirety, however there was something familiar about this mandarin tree.
I know it is stupid to think of a tree as familiar, but there was just something about it.
I was at the front door when I noticed a long wooden deck that ran almost the entire length of the front of the house.
The real estate agent, trying to read my thoughts said..."oh that... That's a wheel chair ramp....."

Inside the house, I saw wall after wall of the most depressing shade of yellow I had ever seen.... How you take the most cheerful shade in the spectrum and make it "dreary day in the festering barn Yellow" I have no idea.... but the rooms were large enough... there was half a kitchen if you could call it that... a completely renovated bathroom, and the magical fourth bedroom......

There was bright red carpet... or Ronny MacDonald's pubes my husband affectionately called it... where there was no bright red carpet there was bright red vinyl....The kind that was made to look like stone so there was 50 years of dirt in all of the little grooves... 

The two reds.. they sat on top of beautiful raw timber floor boards...and then there was the view from the kitchen.. and the back yard that had room to extend the house.... for a chook pen, for the kids to run and run and for the veggie garden....

Surely there was something else wrong with the house though right?... Trying to read the cause of my discomfort the real estate agent said, " I know... It's a little dated,...... nice view though.."

I wanted to jump up and down and say.."Dated..? who gives a flying F... where is the damage?"

I tried my hardest to look for cracks in the walls..... something that indicated structural damage...It could not have all been just cosmetic.... I took a peek under the house... There was room to walk under there and  possibly renovate... the peers looked replaced... they were brick and stood beside the old wooden piers... I thought surely... that has to be it... It is structurally unsound...... It was so cruel....

Have you ever felt optimistically pessimistic?

I made my way out to the front of the house and spoke with Mr Emmasbrain while the agent stood around awkwardly in the kitchen shuffling papers and checking his watch

I asked Mr Emma's brain if he could see himself living here... He replied.. I think so.... check out that view... and the yard, the kids would go nuts!"
I asked him if the other houses might make fun of our wheel chair ramp?...
He replied... "It's not a ramp... its a jetty..."

That made me smile.

We put our offer in and scrambled to get the pest and building reports..... I prayed I wasn't wasting another $600 on heartbreak

We didn't... all was well structurally and our offer was accepted the same day... our first one.

I soon forgot all of the other houses....

I would drive past the house like a stalker silently telling the woman to get out of our house like a deranged nutter.

The lady that lived here before us took every mandarin off that tree before she moved out..... every single one........ which kind of serves me right for stalking.

I soon forgot the red of the carpet and the yellow of the walls... we built the most kick arse chook shed too......We were high on DIY.
I would get excited about an impending trip to bunnings... I was like that chick from 60 minute makeover... with the annoying slow mo whistle blow... that never wears a bra.

Before too long.... I got so over it.... If I never saw Bunnings again I would have died happy.....Mr Emma's brain would show his disgust at Bunnings by singing "Bunnings Whore house" along with the add....

 I forgot the mandarins too.... and the overwhelming excitement of all of it just being cosmetic...

Which is a little bit fucked up if you think about it.. It is such a first world problem.
It has been almost twelve months in our little house and the mandarin tree is full again... It kind of reminds me of why we chose this house.
I get a little excited when I look at it.....

I may even take a trip to Bunnings whorehouse this weekend.... Maybe.

Emma xx



3 comments:

Trik82 said...

Loved this!! I can't wait til I have to slog through all that drama and overdose on DIY and Bunnings Whore House xox

Moodi Mumma

Miss Pink said...

It's those places that just need a little paint, or seem run down until you look closer that are the real gems!

Leah - Bogue Living said...

Hehehe as well as bunnings whorehouse, we used to call it Church, because we'd go every Sunday and often on a Saturday too! Glad you are enjoying your mandy tree :)