My daily inspiration is also a good sport

Nothing is off limits. He first realised this in my first week of the job when I wrote about our engagement and his face ended up on the front page of the paper, much to his surprise. Stories of our wedding, our honeymoon, and how he no longer eats around me without music or the TV on because of my hatred of sounds have also graced the internet .

Then there was the time I wrote about if we were ready for children after we had to clean our cat’s fecal matter, our emotional rollercoaster of buying a house, and, of course, how he won’t stop building things out of pallets.

Actually I better check in that he’s OK for me to write this.

‘‘Are you OK if I write about the life of a columnist’s husband?’’

I’ll let you know when he replies. Now, where was I? Oh yes, there were also stories about how I need his validation three times throughout a meal I’ve cooked, our love of The Block and home renos making us think we could enter, and the terrible flatmates we’ve lived with, including swingers.

He’s my daily inspiration, my muse if you will, my sounding board for s..t ideas. He’s a bloody great New Zealander.

Good ideas are like gold so when one strikes, I’m going to be taking it, even if it’s about him. Sorry, love. It must be hard knowing every word you speak could be turned into 800 words of mockery.

I’ve shared more in columns than would be shared in real life.

He’ll sigh when he hears the topic of some of them but never says no, I can’t write it.

Often he’ll just say ‘don’t rip into me too much, eh’ or ‘I hope my face doesn’t end up on the front page again’. He’s a good sport.

With some of these stories he gets more feedback on it than I do.

Such was the case with the pallet story.

He still gets people talking to him about it almost six months later, giving him flack, and asking if there’s anything he can’t build out of pallets. The answer is no. There is nothing you can’t build out of pallets.

Since the article he’s gone on to build us more, too. We’ve got patio furniture, a porch deck, planter boxes, and a front gate.

After exposing his love of pallets my mum text me a photo of a truck load of pallets outside her house saying, ‘should I redirect this to Will?’.

Not long after the article got published we were driving and pulled over to collect some pallets we spotted on the side of the road. He suddenly became very self-conscious.

‘‘Let’s get this done quickly otherwise people are going to be like ‘look, there’s the pallet guy,’’ he said.

It’s not just columns he’s been mentioned in that he gets feedback on either. People will approach him to talk about the most random of things I’ve written, how they relate to what I wrote, and share their own experiences.

He’s become a columnist by proxy.

When you become a journalist, constantly on the hunt for ideas, it’s not long before people start to put their guard up around you.

At parties, when people talk around me now they say, ‘that better not end up in the paper’ or ‘better watch what I say there’s a reporter in the room’.

I grin and bear it but in my head I’m thinking, ‘I couldn’t care less about your very non-newsworthy story which is taking you far too long to explain’. Not Will, though; he’s understanding of constant slog, doesn’t censor what he says around me, and even gives me story ideas.

Oh, he just texted back .

‘‘Yeah, I guess so.’’

Now I’m not going to lie, there’s a chance I would have written this no matter the response because, like I say, nothing is off limits. But it’s always a bonus getting the green light.

See what I mean? Bloody great New Zealander.

When you become a journalist, constantly on the hunt for ideas, it’s not long before people start to put their guard up around you.