.......no news. The brickies were to start today but they are still missing. Elusive mythical creatures for whom I’ve stocked up on packs of Scotch biscuits. Maybe if I stocked up on Scotch and dumped the biscuits they’d appear. Hmmmm…
I thought we’d see a bit of action on our block, maybe a few lines of bricks up but nope. As you can probably tell, I’m keen to see what the bricks look like once they are up (and to see if my taste is as good if not better than that of DH.) It’s a tad difficult to choose a colour from a few bricks pinned to a wall in a showroom and imagine what it’s going to look like when the house is ready. You’d need a darn good imagination, and if you had that it would be better spent on thinking of other things, like:
1. how to solve Melbourne’s public transport woes (note: a drawing competition to redesign Flinders Street Station is NOT a solution)
2. how to make a trillion dollars (a million seems to be small change of late),
3. how to keep my curly headed toddler out of the pantry
4. and to get the same toddler to stop drawing on the walls
5. and beating up his big brother. Its a David and Goliath situation. One which usually ends with Goliath running to mama for cuddles while an unrepentant David is sent to the corner.
The picture above is what the house is supposed to look like once complete. The brickwork at least – there’s no render. A thumbnail of render costs enough to feed a village for a month, not worth going there.
Australand seem to have taken quite a few liberties with the initial plan of the Range and have opened up some of the areas that were earmarked as reserves for development. The contract probably allows them to get away with this and I’m not about to wade through pages of legalese to find out.
While I'm waiting for them brickies to arrive, I've taken the opportunity to make this blog a bit more interactive, not a one sided lecture from a podium that has most good folk nodding off. Am enjoying blogging and its nice to see the hit counter move in the right direction so quickly, it means that someone's out there listening in. Unlike most days at home where I start talking only to find that DH and the boys have disappeared mid-conversation and I have dirty dishes and a few vaguely bemused spiders for company. So do comment, like or respond to my posts, would love to hear from you.
Back to building, the house feels good though, dropped in on a warm spring day and there was plenty of light and a soft breeze wafting through. It does feel like home….
