A new house brings with it a sense of optimism and renewal. We relished the opportunity of a fresh start as we chose our house plan and signed the building contract.

Demolition of the old house was the first major step: the existing, asbestos-ridden cottage was there… and then it was not. After the initial fireworks, my husband and I realised that this was the most excitement we would experience for many months. It is a little like having a baby — much of the time involves waiting. Waiting, and dreaming about this major new development. 

Our lack of progress was punctuated by ticking off the pre-build milestones: we checked and re-checked our house plans; we chose colour schemes that reflected a coastal vibe; we made last-minute adjustments and paid the deposit. Each small step reassured us of continuing progress. But still, we waited. 

Our dream turned into a nightmare the day we were told construction would take another twelve months. I let out a primordial scream, as I envisioned another 365 days of living in a pocket-sized caravan in my in-law’s backyard. Being restricted to a 15-amp power cord, a spider-infested backyard dunny, and a twice-weekly bath when the in-laws played bowls is no picnic! 

We were overjoyed when we finally saw the first sign of actual building — the pouring of the concrete slab. Instead of their usual sympathetic smiles, friends and family acknowledged that construction had begun. Amid a flurry of photos and videos, we celebrated the foundation of our new life. But the thrill of building soon diminished. Only the faithful responded to our photos showing meagre progress.

At last, the big day arrived. Our shell of a house had gained a personality of its own and we could finally move in. After crossing the threshold, I made a beeline to our new bathroom where I made full use of every longed-for bathroom fitting. 

As I lay in my beautiful new bath, my mother-in-law’s grating words reverberated inside my head, ‘Good things come to those who wait!’