Gluttons for punishment

ONCE again, we find ourselves on the property ladder. Right on the bottom rung again but for now, that's the way it needs to be.

Slowly but surely, we've spent recent months building up some sort of credit history that proves we're capable of becoming land owners Down Under. So we've viewed a couple of beauties - out of our price range it has to be said - so the one we've bought is a place that needs a bit of an overhaul.

It was built just ten years ago but by whom, I cannot begin to imagine. The place has the same design as one of the shoeboxes I am now more than familiar with bearing in mind my new line of work, and whoever bought this place was always going to have to have a keen eye and a whole heap of vision. T'da .. enter stage right, the Pughs and their never-ending "love" for dust, muck and hard work.

Just a two or three minute car ride away from where we are now is where our new place stands. A single storey three bedroomed place that's crying out for an extension and pool instalment. It's nothing like the house I've dreamed of owning out here, but in time, we will be able to mould it exactly to those thoughts that featured so prominently in my pre-emigration mind. And unusual for round these parts, it comes on a decent sized block with plenty of north-facing back garden (north is good for us!)

For the past month, I've picked up pieces of paper and backs of used envelopes that feature the new look designs of our new gaff. Husband is the king of scribbling and over the years, I've seen enough of his pen to paper mindwork to stuff a mattress. He's itching to get out of this rented place and start work on a place we can call our own, The only thing we can get stuck into here is mowing the lawn and even that's been limited over the winter months having had so much rain.

So with the onset of sunnier climes, the boys will no doubt swap the TV remote control for basketballs and scooters and husband and I will trade in our laid-back lifestyle for sledgehammers and skips. I'm not sure how my French manicure is going to hold out but with any luck, the enticement of an extra dollar in their weekly pocket money may see the boys helping us out with some donkey work.

We plan to spend the next year or so renovating and modernising it to make it our own and hope to get it finished well before any overseas visitors. I just hope when Dad comes over, he brings his wheelbarrow and my bricklaying brother!