A house is a home even when it’s not.
A house is a home when the concrete is laid. As soon as that slab went down we were building more than just a house. We were building a home to bring our family into. Emotional ties were made. Invisibly etched into the cement.
2 and a half years ago I spent many months walking through a house that wasn’t yet ready with my belly sticking out as far as I could stick it. “So…when will the house be ready?” I would ask our ever frustrated builder.
My walk became a waddle, and I became the frustrated one. Also I didn’t need to stick my belly out. I just had to stand there (see above) It was all a bit of a game to everyone else. What’s going to come first, the house or the baby? Punters were virtually lining up on Facebook to take a gamble on comparison shots.
Eventually, we moved in. Precisely one week later, Tom’s 9 pound 4 beautiful self came into our world and our home.
I walked the halls often after that, and I paced bedrooms with our little non-sleeper. Skip a few months and I ran and hid behind doors and played hide and seek in this house. I kicked the ball with the boy and his dog. I’ve laughed, cried, hosted dinners, curled up on the couch, baked and done all the things you do in a home that give you comfort and life.
I want to say it’s just walls – just a house. Because it’s time to go. We didn’t build this house with our own two hands, but we chose and we pondered over all the details. We went for storage and big extras like caesarstone benchtops in the kichen. We tread on bamboo floorboards daily and we have barbecues under our alfresco area. We chose space and land for our kids to run in and play in and just BE in.
This is a house where we brought home both our babies. Where we became a family for the very first time. It’s the house where we bring said babies home and fresh sausage rolls straight out of the oven and platters of sweets were soon at our door thanks to amazing neighbours.
A house is a home even when it’s not. Even when you don’t want to feel sad that it’s time to go. Time to let someone else make memories in this beautiful home of ours. And time for us to make memories in the next one.
So many connections have been made in this town – we’ve made so many friends. But St Arnaud, you were never forever. We will miss you.
Check out our listing here