Monday, October 18, 2010

The waiting game…

Blog Stats 18/10/10

One of the hardest parts of building apart from reading the fine print in contracts and battling out colour selections, is the waiting game. I guess it comes down to being the ‘here and now’ generation. We want everything now. Tomorrow is too late, yesterday would have been great. Its like when you switch on the TV, the need to be entertained is gratified immediately. Not if there’s Dr. Phil on, but you get my drift. Want food? There’s Macca’s (McDonalds to the uninitiated) – unhealthy, but still there. Want info? Google gets it in a couple of milliseconds with a few dubious graphic advertisements in tow.

All this makes waiting really hard. So this building-a-house business is even tougher. One week everything is gung ho with some swashbuckling tradies on site. The next three weeks we drive past every second day to see the neighbours temporary pool a bit fuller, some more ducklings have hatched, lot no. 147 has a frame, lot 167 has more rubbish dumped on it but nothing new on ours. Except maybe a few more rips in the insulation and the sand meant for our mortar is being washed away by the rain. The offical version is that them brickies have been finishing a job somewhere out there - and it was supposed to have been completed every week for the past three weeks. Patience is not one of my virtues and the small stock I have has been tested sorely right through the building process.

And then we had news that the family would like to come over for Christmas. I love, love, love to have family over. Our house is like a train station, there’s always people stopping by. It turns my life upside down but it is also like peeking through a coloured glass, you get to see the world through someone else’s lens. Suddenly my messy backyard strewn with toys of every hue takes on a different character as somebody describes it as ‘paradise for kids’ and makes me remember why we bought this house in the first place. A big backyard for the kids to play – selling point #1 to a DINK couple as we were then. And then from the friends we have over, we find out what that tree is really called, and yes, that plant that was thriving in suspicious circumstances is really a weed.

So back to the point of this post. The family wants to come over. A really nice cousin of mine. I’d love to have her, but now I’m thinking logistics. Mum & Dad in the guest room, should I boot the pre-schooler out of his room and if I do that will the same nice cousin be happy to sleep in a bunk bed under a star covered canopy with a soft blue star light for company? Surrounded by Spidermen of assorted shapes and sizes and much-loved books. We’d all have to cram inside the master bed room and thinking of the two boys and us in a bed – well, none of us are going to get any sleep. For one DH's snores rival those of an undecided volcano's rumblings, and by some miracle the curly headed little one takes up thrice his height in bed space. Then the pre-schooler conducts a lively monologue while fast asleep. So any vision of the four of blissfully asleep in the Land of Nod, flies right out of the window.

Better option was to call Porter Davis and see if we can get in before Christmas. Our supervisor advises that we are booked in for a handover after Christmas. If we started on time, there might have been a slim chance that the building would be complete. But now with no tradies in sight it seems highly unlikely. Sigh. Why did I even get my hopes up?

Anyhow, point no. 2 for this post. This blog has a thousand plus hits!! Another thing I love is numbers, even though I spent most of my time punished outside the class during Maths sessions – mostly for throwing date-expired vitamins at the Maths teacher. Mum worked for a pharmaceutical which I will not name, and there was a stream of vitamins that turned into effective little missiles for a sari-clad teacher’s ample bottom. But I digress. More than a thousand hits – woot, woot! The snapshot above is from the stats that provides and interesting to see how far this reaches. From Australia to Ireland, quite a distance hey!

Someone’s reading and I will celebrate – when the brickies are in!

The Range Croydon: