Funding the dream...

Mum was a bit hysterical when she phoned this morning - normally that's my job - but she undertook the task with vigour.  


The massive storms and torrential rainfall of last night had freaked her out as she watched the pool overflowing, water gushing out of one of the gutters and flooding the eaves, and leakage at the kitchen window.  From what she'd described, I was prepared to turn up with towels, a mop and a rigid determination to tackle floodwaters in the family room - but the House at Porter Street, up high on the hill as it is, fared extremely well and I think the water only entered because the window wasn't closed, not because of any structural impairment.


So I arrived at the House after a slow drive there (expecting, in vain as it turned out, to be chassis deep in water in the valleys), entered with my newly cut key(!), hugged Mum and knew she was ok.  And then, after a deep out and then in-breath, Mum launched into a truly impressive stream of consciousness monologue inspired by a combination of: 

• a continuing lack of sleep
• genuine enthusiasm
• discovery of the house plans from the original build
• ideas from outside of the box and
• having had no-one to talk to.

When she finally drew breath and made a cup of tea, I sat down and had a look at the plans myself.  And they prompted a few questions, not the least of which was how do drafts personages and architects get their writing so neat and regular?


The house plans revealed the size of the house:  particularly exciting since we had no idea of the official size of the house or the size of the land (the latter of which we are still wholly in the dark about).  Now it should be noted that the plans omit two major features - without one or either of these the house would not've fitted our brief.  Those aspects are my vinyl boudoir, and the other is the space above the garage known as Mum's pine box.  (Not to be confused with area identified as the "sowing room" which we can only suspect must've been for the previous owners' propagation purposes.)


If were were to include those rooms I'd say the footprint (ex garden and pool, but inc. undercover outdoor area which miraculously stayed tinder dry during the downpour) is around 37 squares.  And since I have no clue what that means, I googled and discovered the magical equation which makes these numbers more meaningful:

1 square = 100 square feet = 9.29 square metres.

So the house is big.  And I knew that already, because when I was rampaging through on settlement day, I was shattered after just a few laps.

Anyway, we went on to talk about how much we love our new kitchen, what we are prepared to pay, identifying other works (lots), and how much furniture I might have to dispose of on eBay in the next week to help fund the plan.


Consequently I've spent a goodly expanse of time when I should've been packing this afternoon, putting items up for auction.  Wish us luck.