October 7th, 2026To build or not…that was the question

Here’s the thing nobody tells you about building a house.

The walls and the slab are the quick bit.

It’s everything before them that gets you: the snail’s-paced planning and the slow haemorrhaging of money that makes death by a thousand cuts sound like a lazy afternoon on the beach.

So here we are. Walls up, roof on and the plasterer booked for next week. It’s finally starting to look less like a building site and more like somewhere you might actually put a couch.

According to our supervisor, Ben from Sherridon, we’re still on track for an April handover. April 2027. I’ll say it again so it sinks in. April next year.

The culprit, as far as I can tell, is Christmas. There’s that mad end-of-year rush to get everything finished so our guests are comfortable on the one special day. Bah humbug.

Because the moment the pavlova’s gone, every tradie in the country hitches up the van and heads for the Murray for two or three weeks. They resurface somewhere towards the end of January, sunburnt and relaxed, just as the world wobbles back onto its axis.

This is the part that has us both a little tetchy. We had a handshake deal that we’d be in by this October. Handshakes, it turns out, don’t come with a completion date.

Once the plaster, plumbing and sparkies are done, I suspect it’ll be a long stretch of hurry up and wait. Meanwhile, the monster over at the bank is chewing through $2400 a month on the original loan. Chomp, chomp, chomp. It never skips a meal, and it certainly never goes to the Murray.

I’ll admit I’m starting to get a little nervous as interest rates creep up. I thought I’d borrowed enough. Now I’m picturing myself going back, Oliver Twist-style, bowl in hand, asking the very same monster for another wheelbarrow of cash. Please, sir, can I have some more?

As far as I can see, there’s only one way out of this. Somebody needs to buy the school. Pretty please…

Fingers crossed. Toes too.

Words: Kyle Barnes | Image: Sherridon Homes