Compelled to start renovation
Peer pressure forced me to renovate, writes Joanna Davis.
It was 9pm on a Saturday when the pressure finally got to me: I started ripping up carpet in the dining room. I’d been writing for Homed for about three months by then. The week before, in the line of duty, I’d been speaking to an architect who specialises in renovations, to an excited new homeowner in Invercargill who planned to completely rip out her old kitchen, and to a home stager who was in love with her job of zhuzhing up other people’s homes.
Among my work team, one person was desperate to get into her first home, another was renovating a 100-year-old villa, and all seem to follow nothing but interior designers and house reno projects on Instagram.
In short, these people all love houses. And here I was, slobbing around in the one I was lucky to own, hardly giving a thought to the state of it.
I’d been living in my fourbedroom, two-storey house in one of Nelson’s central suburbs for 18 months. In that time, I had done nothing to it. Well, other than complain about the carpet.
Every time someone came to the door and asked ‘‘should I take my shoes off?’’ I’d say, ‘‘no, please don’t worry. Have you seen the carpet? It’s disgusting.’’
The carpet was possibly once a nice taupe colour but that was many decades ago. Even though I have a fancy Miele vacuum cleaner, I had to vacuum it on my hands and knees because it is somehow – in a way that doesn’t bear thinking about – sticky. On the upside, I suppose, it was good for children, dogs, spillages, and visitors wearing shoes.
The house was built in the 1950s and I knew, even when I looked through it with the real estate agent before putting in an offer, that I’d want to pull up the carpet and polish the wooden floors.
It’s just that I never seemed to have the oomph to get started.
I’d done it once before, three houses and 14 years ago. I was eight months pregnant at the time, and pulling up carpet seemed a productive way to pass my maternity leave. I vaguely remember the experience was not pleasant, but the details had evaporated in the mists of time.
But now that I was surrounded 40 hours a week by people loving, fussing over and bettering their homes, I could see I was going to have to refresh my memory.
I’ve never been particularly house-proud. My domestic prowess doesn’t extend much beyond getting the dishes done and stuff picked up off the floor.
I have three children and swear – especially when they were younger – that I typically put away in excess of 100 items a day.
But in the past I have painted walls, interior and exterior, and sewn curtains.
My DIY skills are otherwise non-existent, but I’ve encouraged a partner to repair spouting, hired tradespeople to build a deck, and even overseen a laundry/ensuite renovation.
So I’m not completely useless. And I’m not quite sure how the inertia that overcame me with this house persisted as long as it did.
I found that once I’d looked for some weeks at the 10 cent piecesized
holes in the walls (from where the previous owners did something dubious hanging their artwork), they started to recede into nothingness. I literally could not see them any more.
This is something cunning to do with neurology and rationing of attention. It’s universal and, overall, must be a good thing – I like to think it’s to do with contentment; it ties in beautifully with a Buddhist philosophy of letting things be as they are.
And also, frankly, I soon realised – once the home-loving peer pressure forced me into making a start – home renovations are dusty, dirty, expensive and inconvenient.
Once I started pulling up the carpet, the flow-on effects were extreme.
Of course for the floors, I had to buy a lifting bar and those rounded pliers that no doubt have a special name. I had to hire a skip, call and call and call again the floor sanders – three different companies before one would give me a quote.
It really is true that Covid-19 has put tradies in hot demand.
Most of the floor was rimu in beautiful condition, but it turns out the floor in the lounge is nearly all particle board. Cue my next phone call to a flooring company for a quote for carpet.
While I was at Mitre 10 getting the tools I needed, I also accidentally purchased a $400 weed eater (or line trimmer, as I now know they are called) a new toilet seat, and some polyfiller.
I began to fill the holes in the living room walls. I decided to paint the toilet room.
And then, in my most expensive unplanned move yet, my hand picked up my phone and my fingers pressed the numbers of a plumber and thus I dropped $5000 on a new gas hot-water system.
For weeks, my hot water had been boiling out the top of an overflow valve on the roof. From all advice – mostly from my concerned neighbour who thought a child might get permanently disfigured if they got splashed – I could have just had someone replace a thermostat in the cylinder.
But in a classic case of ‘‘in for a penny, in for a pound’’ I decided to get the job done properly.
I’ve worked at Homed for four months now and I can’t say it’s been a net positive outcome in terms of salary earned/money spent on home improvements.
But what price can be put on the gleam of newly-polished rimu, on the bliss of endless hot water, on the sight of wholly intact-ifnot-yet-painted walls?
A prominent historic home on one of the largest sections in Mount Victoria is for sale for the first time in 60 years.
The landmark property at 105 Brougham St, offers an amazing opportunity to restore or renovate while capitalising on its architectural grandeur and prime location in the heart of the inner-city suburb.
The Wellington City Council has awarded the 420sqm house heritage status because of its architectural significance and picturesque streetscape value.
Occupying a flat, northwestfacing 905sqm corner section, it was designed by Thomas Turnbull and Son and is a “fine example” of the New Zealand adaptation of the Federation Queen Anne style in timber (instead of the common masonry construction).
“The tiled roof, prominent gables, with a half-timbered effect, the dormer gable reflecting the two main gables, projecting bays and multi-pane windows are all elements commonly associated with this style,” the WCC says.
“[It] has a high degree of authenticity due to the retention of original fabric in the building.
“The house has also had few alterations, meaning it is in quite similar condition to when it was first constructed.”
The Federation Queen Anne style dominated Australasian domestic architecture during the decades before and after 1900. The vendors believe the two-storey residence was built circa 1890 on a much larger estate.
The vendors are selling reluctantly but say it’s “ready to be restored to its former glory and begin a new chapter of its life … on a most desirable site, in a sought-after city-fringe suburb, with the entertainment district, waterfront and CBD right on your doorstep”.
As well as being built of totara and matai on heart rimu piles, the five-to-seven plus bedroom house has an interior lined with heart red pine.
The front door opens off an enclosed entrance porch into a wide, impressive central hall with a high ceiling, grand staircase and extensive timber panelling that distinguishes the lower level.
It’s lounge dominated by and formal a vast dining/ functions room, complete with a stage, French and bifolding doors, and multiple bay windows, that could be configured for formal and informal living and dining.
Also downstairs are a large study which could be used as a possible bedroom, with a bay window and open fireplace, and the kitchen.
Three of the upstairs bedrooms face west with views across the city and there’s also a northeast-facing sunroom that could be the seventh bedroom.
Also upstairs are a bathroom, separate toilet and kitchenette which could be renovated into a generous sized bathroom.
Outbuildings are another original feature. They include servants’ quarters (with its own separate entrance), a washhouse and a coal shed.
“While somewhat weathered, the majesty of this property will envelop and captivate you,” says Chris Yiavasis, of Professionals
Wellington City who’s marketing Dickason.
“It’s a grand Wellington residence that will appeal to not only well-established families here, but also in Auckland, Sydney and Melbourne.
“This truly is a once in a lifetime opportunity to create a history and lifestyle of your own on an incredible site in one of Wellington’s most sought-after suburbs.”
To be sold by Tender February 11 at 1pm. & Suburbs, it with Paul on