It Isn’t Over Yet

We drove to Werribee tonight to pick up the keys to our shiny new home from Martin, the real estate agent. We originally decided to pick up the keys in the weekend but after looking over our list of to-do’s, getting the keys earlier from Martin seemed like the way to go.

See, we wanted to call in an electrician as soon as possible to add downlights, power points, an antenna point, a telephone point and an exhaust fan in the laundry room. It is better to have this sorted out before we actually started living in the new house. The problem was, in order to get an accurate quote from the electrician, we had to know what we want to have done.

And since we’ve only seen the house for a three or four times, we only have a vague recollection of where the existing lights and sockets were placed. We wouldn’t be sure of what we needed unless we see the house again to determine how many power points we wanted to have installed and where. Same went for the downlights, antenna point and so forth.

Because we wanted to have the electrical bits finished off before we our move in a fortnight’s time, we have to get the keys from Martin ahead of schedule.

At Martin’s office, he asked us to sign off on some sheet of paper. Afterwards, he asked us whether we prefer red or white wine. Since we weren’t really drinkers, it didn’t really matter to me. We have tried white wine before, though, so we we went with red. With that, he handed over the keys and a bottle of red wine. That was nice of them.

We drove to the house and parked the car by the driveway. Since, it was my driveway, it was okay. Just the idea of being able to park on my own driveway gave me some satisfaction.

Across the street, the neighbours were playing with their pet dog. I greeted them with a “how are you going?” and a wave. Much later, I urged Raquel to come with me and meet our neighbour. I figured it was a good time as any to introduce ourselves, especially since they were already outside and we didn’t even need to knock.

The guy playing with the dog turned out to be just a guest of the actual owner of the house across the street. Anyway, he called out the real residents of the house and we introduced ourselves (again). They were migrants as well. They came from Africa four years ago and has been in the neighbourhood for seven months.

It was a very interesting experience. I never had to introduce myself to neighbours like that in my entire life. My Mum did it for us. She was very outspoken and friendly. When we got back in the house, I just realised that I did what Mum would have done if she was in that situation. Like mother, like son, I guess.

We went through all the rooms of the house taking note of where the power points were and some such. Afterwards, we discussed what we wanted to have the electrician to install and where. We also had to figure out which keys opened which lock.

By the time we were done, it was almost midnight and I still had to drive us home to Balaclava. Although it was a tiring exercise, the thought of living in the new house certainly carried me easily through the night.

Now that we’re back home in the apartment, I just realised the amount of things that still needed to be done. We still have to change our address details in our different accounts like banks, Medicare, insurance, and so on. We still have to transfer our broadband connection to the new address. We still have to move our stuff from the apartment to the new house. I even have to call the bank and ask why our loan amount was larger than expected.

I just can’t wait to get all of these things over with so that we can finally start to enjoy living in the new house.

Published in: on December 3, 2005 at 12:51 am  Leave a Comment  

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: