The End (Of Station House's Build) Is Nigh!

I am a great fan of "Grand Designs" - every version. The elements play a starring role in all three series. The weather varies from bitter cold, bitter cold with wind, bitter cold with wind and rain and occasionally bitter cold with snow. There are some episodes dealing with heat (and rain) as an interesting contrast, but mostly, the UK, New Zealand and Australia seem to have more than their fair share of lunatics building their dream homes in less-than-clement locations.

The other common thread is time. Projects running overtime, by months or even years. Often these delays are aided and abetted by drawings as clear as mud, decisions as clear as mud and of course, mud itself.

When we were children, mud meant fun. Mud pies, mud fights, splashing in muddy puddles, sliding down muddy slopes. Our mothers rolling their eyes whilst peeling wet and sticky brown layers of material. which once resembled clean clothing, off our equally dirty bodies.

Today, I realised, with some surprise, that Michael and I could be worthy participants in "Grand Designs" during our build of Station House. Conceived three years ago, we had to wait fifteen months to sell the House that Rocks. Then amazingly, we were ready to begin building preparations within two months. The slab was laid in March 2017. The build itself was a dream, nothing like the inevitability of chaos portrayed on "Grand Designs".

Station House keys were given to us in late June 2017. What followed was a seven-month-long nightmare precipitated by moving a boundary line by three and a half metres. We thought we were domestic consumers requesting essential services to our home, but because we had moved the boundary - between two already sub-divided blocks - all the relevant government and non-government agencies decided we were developers.

After resolution, we still were unable to build a courtyard to give us protection from eyes and the road, due to the totally unexpected charges levied by the Department of Planning. We had to wait for more money to materialise, sadly provided by the sale of my father-in-law's home.

Our brick courtyard was humungously expensive - another similarity to "Grand Designs". However, the result is breathtaking and we are so thrilled to have created such an outdoor oasis, which we can use most of the year. Completed in May, we have added potplants, our outdoor setting, shade umbrella and bbq as finishing touches.

We have continued to live with dirt coming in the front door all winter. We even bickered about our plans for the remaining brick paved areas. Ye Gods. When we eventually reached a resolution, Michael had added a front picket fence with brick piers. We knew that bricklayers and brick pavers were entirely different trades and we took precious months finding somebody who could perform both tasks.

Jacob Miller is a member of one of Beverley's older families. After living in town as a boy, he has now returned as a qualified tradesman, due to lack of work in both Mandurah and Broome. He and his sidekick, Kurtis were finally able to begin our job last Monday. We have been blown away by their speed and skill. As of this evening, most of the brick paving, front and back, is close to completion. The footings for the brick piers are poured. The bricks we have used in the front of the house are recycled fire bricks and not square in any way shape and form, hence this task has not been easy for the boys. But we love the effect.

And, in a final tribute to "Grand Designs", we have encountered mud. After a dryish September, we have had wet and gloomy skies with bursts of showers and the odd rumble of a passing thunderstorm. After washing the floors last night, I walked dots of pooh coloured clay all the way through the house this morning.

Tomorrow is supposed to be the finish. Now we feel we've joined "Backyard Blitz" as well. There remain the brick piers, the rest of the paving and the concrete edging to be done. And the brick cutter gave up the ghost this afternoon. I'm just a tad nervous.

When we are finished, the result will be worth every millilitre of blood, sweat and tears. And money. Our budgets have been laughable. Nothing costs less. Unexpected expenses lurk in every corner. Somehow, we have survived all the disasters. We are not debt free. The housing loan we hoped would evaporate is still with us.

Would we endure this ever again? Hopefully not. We have tried to increase the building insurance as we have added extra features. Station House is supposed to be our place of residence until we shuffle off the mortal coil. So, bugger the cost.

We have our home.