A couple of months ago, we got the keys to our new house in Tanunda. It all happened quite quickly and two months after looking at this property (the weekend after we got back from Vietnam) we had our very own place after renting for the past 2.5 years.
We spent a few weeks doing a few things to freshen up a 50 year old property that had been empty for five years – new lights, new paint and ripping up the carpets and lino and polishing the beautiful floorboards. Then at the end of October, just before our 10th wedding anniversary, we moved in.
That was six weeks ago and yesterday, I finally unpacked the last box – if you ignore a few boxes of books and the “stuff” in the carport. We are slowly finding space for everything (we’ve lost a bedroom but gained linen cupboards and a pantry, lost wall space but gained amazing windows). We’ve gained an incredible established garden that continues to throw out surprises – like the discovery of some peonies last night. We’re trying to get on top of it and plan for how it should look, but we’re taking our time as we work out what is actually out there.
We had three plumbing disasters in two weeks – the final one being a leaking pipe that will eventually see the whole bathroom replaced. And a couple of weeks ago, our beautiful cat died suddenly which has made the house a little emptier than it was before.
And while we still don’t have pictures on the walls, and there is still another wardrobe to paint so we can hang all our clothes up, and there are curtains to be hung and weeds to be pulled, the most important this is it feels like home.
I wrote the words below the night before we got the keys back in September (almost a whole school term ago):
As I went to bed last night, I thought about the last 2 months, and the long process from looking at this house “just to see what’s out there”, to buying a house that will be the closest to a forever home since I moved out of Mum and Dad’s (the house I’d been brought home to as a baby).
Since then, houses had been transient – even though I settled in and made them home, I always knew they had a limited lifespan. Host families in Denmark, a share house in Sydney, a dorm in Slovakia, the Palace in Canberra, my apartment in Beijing. Even coming back to Canberra, I rented, not willing to commit to buying a place of my own, although it would turn out that Simon moved in within the year. After we got married, we bought our own place but even then we knew a 3 bedroom town house was not forever. But it was the home we brought both boys home to, and the home we left for Hanoi, so selling it last year, even after 5 years away was strange.
Our first Hanoi home had seemed great on paper – 4 levels, multiple bathrooms and bedrooms – but the reality was the neighbourhood was isolated and there was no living space. Our next home in Hanoi was special – it was where our babies grew up, parties happened (often impromptu) and decisions were made about the next stage of our life.
Arriving here in the Barossa, we just wanted to unpack our stuff, and as we arrived on the Tuesday afternoon, I basically took the attitude that as long as this place was livable, we’d sign a lease. We saw it the next day, said yes on the spot and signed a lease on the Thursday night. It was only lying in an uncomfortable motel bed that night that I realised I’d not only be without a housekeeper, but also a dishwasher.
But apart from this, the house was just what we needed. It was on one level, had a backyard and there was sky. We were living walking distance from vineyards, I had a great running tracks, and lovely neighbours and school was 5 mins away.While it was perfect for our introduction into the Barossa, today we get the keys to a place we can call our own. More importantly, for the first time in my adult life, I’m getting ready to unpack and throw away the packing boxes and say, this is it. This is home.
Reading this again two months later, makes me quite emotional because as someone who has spent most of the last 24 years travelling (or at least thinking about where to live next), it is a strange feeling to finally unpack and say, this is home.
But, as strange as that feeling is, it is both comforting and exciting and I can’t wait to see what unfolds in the coming years here.