17 November 2016
Today we lost the Mt Albert orphan house.
I called mama and papa to see how the signing of the paper was going, and when papa answered, his voice was limp.
The agent had a strong reaction to mama and papa’s request to withhold some of the moneys until the move was completed. He said that was a dealbreaker, and quickly ended the phone call. Our agreement is over.
My thesis called me to my office. I sat for a while, thinking about how disappointed I was that we lost Mt Albert. Of course, the weather in Wellington was Hollywood-style dreadful (in the past week, we have had a 7.8 earthquake, over 1100 aftershocks, severe floods, thunder and lightning, hail and gale-force winds. My four-storey vintage office building was shaking, but I’m not sure if that was the earthquakes (I joked to a friend: one born every minute) or the howl of the earth: Wellington wind.
It’s times like these I knowingly romanticise finding the perfect orphan house, moving it onto that gloriously green house spot of ours, and living in the north of New Zealand, where the winter doesn’t dare do more than poke its nose in the door. And yes, I also knowingly romanticise all the wonderful parts about renovating a house.
However, if we didn’t romanticise something before beginning it – we probably would never start.
So yes, I’m disappointed about losing the house. But I’m hopeful too. Hopeful we’ll find something worthy of romanticising and daydreaming about, in between the next two weeks of mad thesis writing.