Come together!

To me the 1960's was much more than the style revolution of velvet jackets worn by snake hipped male rock stars like Mick Jagger (OMG – he is 67!) I love the whole, peace and togetherness vibe which had as its nirvana the 1969 Woodstock Music and Arts Fair. In that lovely village of art and culture, people came together to celebrate ideas and music. Woodstock N.Y., to me, represents a village of joy. 

Almost 40 years on and afar and asunder, I've discovered on my Open for Inspection Girl trips my own Woodstock – a place of peace, harmony and if we buy the house at auction, bliss.  15 Woodstock Street in Bondi Junction for auction through the lovely Lorraine Crawford at Di Jones Real Estate is my dream property. It's whisper quiet (perfect for Josh's meditation) and so filled with light that I can say good day, sunshine on the bleakest of days. Not that there would be many bleak days in this freestanding property paradise. It is so close to Alex's school that we could skip there together, passing the strawberry fields of Waverley Park on the way.

The house is rock solid, with four double bedrooms, which would give Josh and me a study each. And its dual street frontage means that Josh could store all his kayaking paraphernalia easily and with no fuss. The fantastic location would let him go from bed to Harbour in fifteen minutes flat (which means a lot at 5:00 a.m.). Although the house made me feel very shiny and happy, I didn't miss the fact that it's a five minute totter away from WBJ, the carnival of all things consumer. I am sure that it is very convenient for many people to be able to buy a Chanel handbag at the same time they pick up the milk and roast chook for dinner. WBJ is the Mecca for one stop shopping, though I do prefer a little more sunshine between my retail encounters (and Prada to Chanel).

The kitchen at 15 Woodstock Street would be the heart of the home. It's huge, with real stone benches and oodles of light and space. I could bake cookies with Alex and plan a brighter future with Josh imbued by the happy energy of the house. In fact, today's Open for Inspection Girl dreaming at 15 Woodstock Street, Bondi Junction has been the perfect antidote for my fear. The elephant in the room of the house (the house was big enough to easily accommodate it) was tomorrow night's Di Jones auction of The Church. And my parents' passion to purchase said Church had reached biblical proportions.

As I previously wrote, my parents want their second coming into Sydney from Bowral to tick lots of boxes. The beautiful sandstone former church at the corner of Moncur Street and Jersey Road, Woollahra ticks them all! It's great for dad – with room for all his wine in its grand cellar and has a lovely, easy to maintain garden for mum. The four bedroom house has the perfect blend of beauty – with sandstone detailing and leadlight windows – and convenience – five minutes from Queen Street and with its very own lift to the bedroom! (Josh calls it a stairway to heaven for people with dodgy knees).

But the idea of the auction is daunting. I know there will be competition. It is such a beautiful house. And if mum and dad get it they'll be in our backyard and maybe back pocket for the foreseeable future, having their own urban bolt hole far away from their Bowral property. And if they don't get it? Well mum will be gutted and dad will take solace in quite a few of his cellar "keepers" I'm sure.  Josh says we'll be damned if they do buy the house at auction and damned busy trying to find a suitable alternative if they don't. I talked to Kim Jones at Di Jones Real Estate for a few handy auction pointers. The most important one, which I'll tell my parents to remember, was don't forget to breathe. Apart from that (and a few other pointers from Kim which I'll share with the oldies), it's in the lap of the gods. Here's hoping they've been to Woodstock, too!

Paddington or Opossum?

Josh is scared.


My mum and dad are deadly serious about getting a city crash pad. The idea of my parents dropping in unannounced rather than be a safe three hour drive away in Bowral sent Josh to his company’s HR department, seeking transfer opportunities. At first I was excited, thinking of all expenses paid corporate postings to London, Singapore, or even, maybe New York. I dreamt that I could be writing my Open for Inspection Girl blogs after perusing Chelsea apartments, Soho lofts or Upper East Side brownstone mansions.


Josh’s HR department gave him three career options - Wangaratta; Opossum, Tasmania or Bangladesh. Not the life enhancing opportunities either of us are seeking. And although Alex was excited about living in a town named after a marsupial, we decided the delights of Paddington were far too nice to leave for my parents to enjoy alone. Josh is staying in head office and walking the thirty minutes to his lovely job.


Seeking inspiration and contemplation, I went to the quiet surroundings of a church; well of a former church that is for sale through Di Jones Real Estate.


The outstandingly beautiful home for sale in the former church at the corner of Moncur Street and Jersey Road Woollahra gave me the peace to see a way forward. After being gently welcomed by Kim Jones and her team (and aren’t they the glamour girls!) of Di Jones Real Estate, I marvelled at the magnificent lead lighted windows and sandstone detailing which grace the home. A haven from the hurly burly of city life, I drank in the quiet – compliments of the thick sandstone walls. It’s impossible to believe, when enjoying the beauty inside, that the home is only metres from busy buzzy Queen Street.


I wandered around the beautiful garden and sniffed the magnolias. Hmmm. What a lovely location the home is in. Perfect for someone who loves an easy to maintain and established garden. And who would appreciate the joys of Woollahra – including the classy purveyors of all things meat, Victor Churchill’s. Josh and I sometimes go to the upmarket meat-ery, planning the barbecue we’d have if we won the lottery. Aged Wagu sausages, anyone?


In fact the garden in the house is graciously large enough to play the host for many a back yard (or in this case it would be a front yard) barbecue.


In many ways, if mother and father did buy a home away from Bowral, this former church would be just the ticket. The reasons?
- It’s got a great garden for Alex to frolic in, when mum and dad baby sat when Josh and I grab a bite at Bistro Moncur.
- It’s neat as a new pin. No renovations needed. So no need to accompany mum to endless home ware stores for the right colour paint.
- It’s got a wine cellar that will easily house dad’s excellent collection of Australian and French wine. Yum.
- It’s got four bedrooms, so dad and mum can have a home office each. Perfect for their passions, mum’s genealogy research and dad’s new internet business, selling Bowral’s best blooms and buds online.
- It’s quiet and lovely to be in. And as it’s got so much more room than our two bedroom apartment, I’m sure mum and dad would much rather that Josh, Alex and I come and visit them rather than “pop” into ours unannounced.


So, I decided, smelling the magnolias in the garden one last time, if mum and dad bought the house, the end result would really be more babysitting and more aged meat barbecues at “theirs”, washed down with the finest red wine, complements of my parents. And they’d still have Bowral, which they would escape to for the country air and for my dad to fill in his internet gardening orders.
I said a happy farewell to Kim, Jess and Erin on my way out of the Open for Inspection, hoping that Josh would agree with my best of all worlds’ assessment. Surely he would agree that if my parents bought the former church as their city house, it would be the answer to all of our prayers?

Doctor in the House?

I am over 30 and I like wearing skinny jeans. Stupid? Absolutely. So, how do I achieve a bottom of a 25 year old? With the following combination:

1.  Spanx underwear.

2.  Whenever I think "chocolate" I substitute "carrot" into my diet (except on my skinny cappuccino). My skin is so orange, I haven't needed a spray tan all year!

3.  Boot camp at Coogee beach with my best friend Cassie on Thursdays before my weekly Open for Inspection Girl drill.

Boot camp (or butt camp as Cassie calls it) isn't for everyone. No, it's only for the truly insane who will pay $25 to be yelled at for an hour to do tortuous things. Thinks like running with a medicine ball tied to your waist or lunging all the way along Coogee Beach, then back again; tourists clicking merrily away at the weird "silly walk" local custom. The only thing that kept me lunging like Basil Fawlty this week was the zero calorie treat that awaited me; an open for inspection squiz at 4/4 Powell Street, Coogee with Cassie.

 Cassie is in the market. For a house and for a man. She and Brett, her boyfriend of five years hit Splits-ville last month, after a mercifully short detour into Ugly Breakup town. He's got the cat and she's kept the goldfish (which is a nicer shade of orange than me). Cassie (and Bubbles) are now sleeping in her old bedroom at her mum and dad's Rose Bay house. It's painted purple with pictures of George Michael and Ricky Martin on the wall; a shrine to the dubious taste of our shared youth. Cassie is an emergency ward doctor, so she thinks it's finally time to buy her own place.

Powell Street is just what the doctor ordered.  In between saving lives in the casualty department, dating via the Internet and killing herself with endorphin-releasing butt camp, Cassie is very time poor. Her idea of a renovation is buying new tea towels. And there's not a thing to do at 4/4 Powell Street except move in!

The art deco apartment has high ceilings and a Jetmaster fireplace. It has more character than George Clooney. And it's just as well maintained. A post-boot camp two minute wheeze away from Coogee Beach it's as bright as the smile on a Miss Australia contestant. All that Northern sun is sure to keep Cassie breezy and away from the chocolates if she ever thinks of Brett again. Not that she needs to with all the luscious low calorie stud muffins on tap at the local life saving club. Cassie has her bronze lifesaving medal, so we couldn't decide if she is lucky enough to buy 4/4 Powell Street, whether she should try to be rescued (the damsel in distress approach) or become a volunteer lifesaver (the friends first approach). Such are the dilemmas of dating for modern women. (Phew, thank gosh that Josh and I and Alex are happy as Larry.) 

Doreen Wilson from Di Jones Real Estate said that the apartment would be a great investment as Coogee is such a popular place to live. There are loads of families who choose the suburb because it is close to the beach and has great schools, and plenty of couples as well as singles because of the great beach lifestyle. Cassie's apartment would be ideal for busy city types or, hmm, doctors or nurses from the local hospital! Doreen was really helpful as she knows loads of people who live in the area and so gave Cassie a great run down on the neighbours. Doreen even said she would introduce Cassie to a few of them (especially the single male variety).

Doreen and Cassie got on really well, and actually knew a few people in common.

And I couldn't help but notice that, with two massive bedrooms, there would be heaps of space if Cassie ever wanted to babysit her adorable godson Alex for a weekend every once in a while. He'd even feed Bubbles, whom I know would love living close to the beach! Everyone would be a winner if Cassie moved into 4/4 Powell Street, Coogee, even the goldfish.

Will the Queen return to Queen Street?

I love my parents. And I love them most of all when they are safely ensconced in Bowral; pruning roses and planning Bridge sessions with their neighbours. They moved to the sunny Southern Highlands in 2007 after selling the family pile in Bellevue Hill. They trotted off with nary a backward glance to a stone cottage with charm and woodworm and with plans to build a drought resistant garden and reduce their golfing handicap to single figures. It was a little sad to see them go but in return Josh and I got our Sundays back (my mother insisted on a family roast every week where my brother always brought a hangover) and a country idyll to visit once a month where Alex could see beef on cattle and not in Coles, and could eat strawberries straight from the garden, not the punnet.

Three years later and mum and dad both play off nine. They won the Best New Native Garden category from their local Rotary club. They are driving each other crazy. My mission as Open For Inspection Girl this week is to find a snug house in Paddington or Woollahra for my parents to have as their Sydney bolt-hole; a place to enjoy the bright lights, big city whenever they need to escape all that serenity.

I leafed through this week's The Wentworth Courier and I have found two perfect possibilities. Both properties are with Di Jones Real Estate and they are both for sale. That is a great relief for my parents (and me). They sold their harbour-glimpses home via auction through Gary Sands and Jane Schumann and though they were very happy with the result, the auction process stressed them a little. By a little I mean that dad crashed his car on the way to the auction and mum burst into tears when the bidding passed the reserve. By the end of the night I needed a G & T or three. So the idea of a nice, quiet purchase holds appeal.

I called Kim Jones to arrange an inspection of 126 Jersey Road, Paddington. The property would be perfect for mum and dad because it is so low maintenance. It is luxurious, modern and filled with light, a perfect antidote for all the chintz and timber of their Bowral home. There's not a skerrick to do and the location is within a breath from Buzo, my favourite restaurant in the world (where Josh and I just celebrated our anniversary) and only seconds from Queen Street, my mother's favourite street in the world. Mum's most treasured village is Woollahra. That the house at 126 Jersey Road has three bedrooms (and is perfect for babysitting Alex) is an added bonus, I must admit...

I know mum would love it and I arranged with Kim for mum to have an inspection later this week, when she's up to see her therapists (her retail therapist David Jones before her beauty therapist, nail therapist and her psychotherapist, a busy day indeed!).

The second house was perfect for Dad. He loves traditional architecture and the Georgian facade on the house at 4 Holdsworth Street had "Murray Smythson" stamped all over it. Susannah Anderson and Louise Snowden from Di Jones let me linger for a moment or two after the Open for Inspection ended (I was late because of Alex's Saturday soccer match at Queen's Park) and in the silence I could almost see Dad's tweed jacket hanging up in the walk-in closet just outside the master bedroom.  The house is literally one shop length away from Queen Street itself where mum and dad love the energy of village life. 

Both houses would work a treat for my parents; being bandbox neat and ready to move into. And knowing the prices is an added plus. Mum has a bigger decision to make later this week than whether to choose Fire Engine Red or Plush Persimmon for her appointment with her nail therapist. It looks like family roasts might again figure in Josh, Alex and my weekend plans.  Though because of Bowral, it won't be every week. My lucky, lucky parents. It looks like, if they choose one of these two lovely homes, that they actually can have the best of both worlds!

My Twilight Saga

My travels to the open home this week took me through Centennial Park at dusk. I had used the opportunity of an evening inspection to do a lap of the park prior to the inspection. In the dying moments of the day, the shrill screech of sulphur crested cockatoos mingled with the dull flapping of wings as hundreds of bats arose to begin their night of foraging in the parks and coves of Sydney.

As I jogged towards the Woollahra Gates heading for Victoria Avenue, a bat flew straight over me scratching the top of my head!

I was a bit spooked. You see I have just finished reading the Twilight trilogy (and have seen both movies). I loved them so much I made Alex call his new Guinea pig Edward Cullen (then we found out it was a girl, so she's Bella now). I only read the books because they had been chosen by my book club. But I was addicted from the first page, opening Twilight on a Friday night and not putting it down till I finished it at 8:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. My night time craving was insatiable, and I read the trilogy like a woman possessed, craving more.

I knew I was just being silly being flummoxed by the flying fox. The bat that flew low over me was probably attracted by the smell of my Jo Malone Jasmine and Mint perfume, being a Woollahra bat of distinction of course. I picked myself up, brushed myself off and resumed my jog into the light and to my 6:30 p.m. Open for Inspection.

The house I entered was beautiful.

Victoria Morish from Di Jones Real Estate was very concerned for me when I arrived and told her my story. Victoria quickly found a tissue and made sure there was no injury to be worried about. Whilst I appreciated her concern, she needn't have worried. The stunning house at 7 Victoria Avenue made me feel better in an instant. It had such a welcoming energy. Apart from three generous bedrooms (which would be perfect for my family), the house had amazing living and dining spaces that lovingly embraced a pretty courtyard, complete with a pond. Josh drives to work early in the morning and comes home late many nights, so the off-street parking would be fantastic and would certainly make his days a little easier.   I also loved the light filled-bathroom. The skylight would certainly make it very easy for me to do my makeup in the morning. (I was also very happy to see my reflection in the mirror, confirming that I was still a loving wife, mother and real estate lover and not a vampire!)

I thought the house was wonderful. I never knew such a peaceful place could be in amongst all the things that Alex, Josh and I love. From its beautiful entry you can almost smell the fresh bread and coffee at Simon Johnson; Josh's and my two favourite restaurants – Buzo and The Centennial Hotel – are both only minutes away; The divine interiors of that fabulous new boutique Cote maison – wow I could spend some serious money there!. And if we lived at 7 Victoria Avenue, Woollahra, I could be in Centennial Park in an eye blink for my morning or evening run, though I think that, just for now, I'll curtail my park running to daylight hours while the bats are still asleep.

After seeing the beautiful home in Victoria Avenue, I jogged down beautiful Queen Street and on to home where Josh and Alex were waiting patiently for me. I love our snug Paddington flat, but I have to say each time I see another one of these new homes on the market, I just get so excited at the prospect of moving. We cooked Thai for dinner and shared our stories of the day. I don't think I'll turn into a vampire after my run in with the bat today, but I added an extra few cloves of garlic to the meal, just in case. 

New York state of mind

Don't you sometimes want to get away from it all?

After the cookie kerfuffle of last week, I needed to de-clutter my mind. I was a little bit sad on not being at the auction of our Kensington dream house that went to another, especially as Josh had decided where to put the flat screen TV and his kayaking medals.

So my Open for Inspection Girl dreamings this week covered a lot of lovely Paddington streets that I could easily jog to, de-stressing as I poked my nose into renovators delights in cul-de-sacs and strolled through light-filled terraces with lace balconies.

I love Paddington. It's pretty as a Parisian postcard and cheaper to get to. But, needing a break from the here and now, I took my imagination and went to New York and Paris, all in the one morning of my Open for Inspection Girl dreamings. Underwood Street was my launching pad. What a great street – two pubs within stumbling distance and Collette Dinnigan a five minute stroll away!

At 154 Underwood Street, I travelled to New York. Josh and I went to New York for our honeymoon and when I walked through the house I felt the excitement of being in that city; I swear I spotted a yellow cab flashing by the house when I looked out the window from the attic retreat.  From the street, the house was a beautiful Paddington terrace, but inside I felt like Andy Warhol or Joan Didion might somehow be in the next room, drinking Manhattans. Kim Jones from Di Jones Real Estate explained that the house had been designed by Thomas Hamel, who is the designer for all things sophisticated East Coast USA, apparently. I took a holiday from my neighbourhood and my 15 minutes in New York (via the lovely friendly people at Di Jones Real Estate) put me in a much better state of mind.

After a restorative jog through Centennial Park (which I think is a lot like Central Park) and a few more property viewings, I returned to Underwood Street (having a little window gaze in to Just William chocolates on the way; are their calories in the smell of chocolate?)

I love Paris in the spring time; and it is spring in Paris right now. 84 Underwood Street took me to the city of love and lights in an eye blink. The house is brimming with energy and happiness. The kitchen has an amazing terrazzo floor that would be great to dance on with Alex and Josh as a soufflé cooked in the Smeg oven. The outdoor area is so peaceful and the scent of jasmine hung in the air as I walked around. Who could imagine that a house could be so zen-like and only a five minute walk from Oxford Street?

The sun was smiling today, a perfect Sydney autumn day. By the end of my morning of Open for Inspection Girl dreamings, I was smiling too. I love Paris, I love New York, but I think I love Sydney most of all.

Nuts Ahoy!

Remember that old saying that "for want of a nail a horse was lost"? It was said a lot in days of yore and was a 15^th Century precursor to the Chaos theory. I remember having to write an essay on it for my third form English exam.

Well this week I experienced fully blown Chaos theory up close and personal; and for want of a peanut a house was lost! All because of my silly mother-in-law.

She and I have never been the cosiest of couples; we definitely rub along.  The only reason that our mutual indifference hasn't turned into a war is because of our shared adoration of Josh and Alex. And that we live in sunny Sydney while she survives chilly Melbourne also helps. Somehow I knew her offer to fly to Sydney to "help out" with our planned auction purchase of our Pavilion Dream house in Kensington spelt doom as soon as Josh told me.

She arrived at 6:30 a.m. on Saturday (four days before the auction) and was soon ensconced on the floor of Alex's room on our inflatable Aero bed. Apart from telling me how to run a healthier and cleaner house and just how lucky I was to marry Josh (wasn't he lucky too?), all was going fine.

The auction at Di Jones Real Estate of our dream house was this Tuesday at 6:30 p.m. At 5:30 p.m, my parents arrived at our house to discuss auction tactics (don't forget to register to bid; don't bid twice in a row; don't bid lower than the last bid). I provided a cup of tea and a fresh batch of my yummy peanut cookies to fortify us; my parents said they'd shout us all dinner at Love Supreme afterwards to celebrate or not, as the case may be.

At 6:15 p.m. we were all ready to go and my mother-law-assisted in the clean up by eating all the left-over cookies.

Everyone headed to their cars while she followed me to the kitchen. I was putting the dirty cups in the dishwasher and she was mid-sentence telling me why dishwashing liquid was so much better than the dishwashing tablets I used when she suddenly stopped talking. That was strange enough in itself, but I counted my blessings and closed the dishwasher door with a thud. I turned and grabbed my handbag and keys. I looked up, about to tell her to get a wriggle on. Dear old Shirley was as blue as the tongue on a blue tongue lizard! She had stopped halfway through her diatribe to draw breath and had inhaled half a cookie.

She was choking! What should I do? The auction started in 15 minutes. Sorely tempted as I was to keep on walking to the car (I really wanted this house), I let my conscience have free reign and spun Shirley around, attempting the Heimlich manoeuvre (or my version of it) to dislodge the peanut cookie.  No dice. I tried again. The wheezing continued, the breathing didn't.

This was serious. I raced to the cars outside, with their motors on and called for assistance from my family while Shirley did a crazy dance of distress across the kitchen linoleum. In an eye blink they were back. Josh tried the Heimlich too then put his fingers down her throat trying to dislodge the cookie, to no avail. It was a terrible thing to see, I must admit. He pulled out her dentures by mistake and they sat smiling at us from the kitchen table. My mum made worried noises and my dad range 000 from his mobile. Alex saved the day. He had learnt First Aid at school that week, when the Red Cross people came and discussed safety rules. He went up to his granny and hit her hard on the back. Five times. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. On the fifth bang, the cookie dislodged, flying through the air, jettisoning peanuts on the way before it landed in a sodden heap on the table next to Shirley's teeth. Shirley breathed freely. Yippee! If I knew that the calamity could have been solved by repeatedly hitting her hard on the back, I would have definitely done it myself.

Shirley was distressed and insisted we take her to the hospital. I did feel sorry for her as it must have been so scary. But it was already 6:30 p.m. and we would miss the auction! But duty prevailed. Josh is a good son and I am a dutiful daughter-in-law. Mum and Dad looked after Alex, taking him back to their lovely furnished short-term rental apartment for a sleep over. So on Tuesday night Josh and I didn't bid on our dream home in Kensington, we sat next to sick people in the Emergency ward at St Vincent's Hospital with his mother. We didn't have champagne and pizza, we had crisps and coffee from the hospital machine. His mother saw the doctor after four hours. He said she was fine.

Gary Sands and Jane Schumann from Di Jones called while we were at the hospital to see why we weren't at the auction as we had appeared so keen. We explained our dilemma and Gary explained that we could have sent my Dad along with an authority to bid on our behalf. Drats! He was ever so nice though and the next day, following a phone call out of courtesy letting us know that the home indeed had been sold last night, a bunch of flowers was delivered to my house to wish my mother-in-law good health.

Oh well, on the positive side of things, Shirley goes back to Melbourne today, bustling with energy (the flowers must have worked) and I will have every good reason to continue with my weekly Open for Inspection Girl dreamings.....

 
 

Living the Dream?

Josh and I (and Alex too) have decided. We are going to bid on our dream home in Kensington at the Di Jones auction which is being held in the restaurant at Centennial Park this week.

Josh's bonus at work was announced last week. After the upset of the Global Financial Crisis, Josh and I were very happy that he had a job at all. A few of his colleagues had been let go, but Josh had stayed at the bank. We weren't expecting big things from the bonus, but to our relief it was pretty generous. We were so happy. We opened a bottle of real French champagne to celebrate with our pizza from Christos' at Five Ways, Paddington. Alex had two scoops of ice cream to celebrate – strawberry and vanilla.

Josh is a whizz at maths (which is handy, considering he works in the bank's finance department). Over dinner he borrowed my MAC lip liner and did some quick additions on a paper napkin. Josh said we might be able to buy the Kensington house, if we are very careful.

Well – what a week that followed. We talked to Jamie Markou from Foundation Broking regarding arranging a mortgage in double quick time. He was a magician and worked with Josh to arrange financing at rates that seemed very competitive. We hadn't bought before and didn't know how to arrange a mortgage. Luckily we chatted with Gary Sands from Di Jones Real Estate during Saturday's open for inspection and he gave us Jamie's number. So that's all in place now for tomorrow night. It is really nerve racking. I am a bit of a wreck to be honest, and so excited at the same time.

Our family is out in force to offer support of course. Mum and dad have come up from Bowral and are staying in a divine fully furnished flat in Elizabeth Bay that they leased for a week through Di Jones short term executive leasing. It's a home away from home for them and Alex is going to have a sleep over on Friday night. Josh's mum and dad are flying in from Melbourne this afternoon and are staying in Alex's room (I must remember to put out the Di Jones short term leasing brochure beside the Aero Bed that I'll inflate for them tonight).

I think we are ready for the auction. Luckily we followed Gary Sand's and Jane Schumann's great advice and went to the previous auction that Di Jones held two weeks ago at Centennial Park to get an idea about just how an auction works. I could tell it was nerve wracking for the people bidding, but the clear advice from their auctioneer definitely made it easier to understand what was going on. This has been so quick. It's amazing how finding the right home can change your direction overnight. We could be shifting from tenants to home owners tomorrow night.

During my lunch break at Sorted! Event Management I had a manicure in Nars Fire Engine Red so that the auctioneer would definitely notice me (or my nails) if/when I put in a bid on the house. Josh and I decided that I would be doing the actual bidding as it will keep me busy and distract me from my nerves. But how I should dress for the auction? Corporate woman or Eastern suburbs mum? Mum says you should always dress to impress, so I think I'll wear my Scanlan and Theodore navy skirt and blush coloured Willow silk shirt. I'll definitely look the winner, and hopefully Josh and I will have the winning bid.

Still, it is in the lap of the Gods at this point. We've done our homework and have everything ready. If the Pavilion Paradise does fall to us, it will be absolutely magical. If not, back to the drawing board.

So, inspected the home a couple of times; check. Had solicitor check through the contract for sale; check. Arranged pre-approved finance; check. Had building and pest inspection done on the home; check. Nails painted brightly to ensure noticed by auctioneer in crowd; check; Ensured that we have cheque book ready with enough money in account for deposit if successful bidders; check. Outfit for auction selected; nearly. . . .

Life Rocks!

Yippee!

My team at Sorted! Event Management won the pitch this week to be the event manager for Fashion Expo 2012. This is great news. So good in fact I had to buy a new lipstick to celebrate. Nars Fire Down Below is my favourite red lippie, so it was an absolute necessity, really. The pitch meant that I worked all hours through the week, so I was scared my alias as Open for Inspection Girl would have to be forgotten for the week. No way, Jose! I got a tweet from my techno-savvy friends at Di Jones Real Estate reminding me about new listings to go and see and so I was back on track again!

The fashion expo client has their office in a beautiful sandstone building at The Rocks. In between meetings with my fashionista sistas, I escaped for a reinvigorating 30 minutes looking at a house I could live in in an eye-blink.

80 Windmill Street, Millers Point is more than a house. It is a lifestyle. If Josh, Alex and I lived there we could have weekend picnics under the Sydney Harbour Bridge, walk through heritage streets to cute cafes all with the convenience of living slap bang in the centre of Sydney. Whisper quiet, the house is amazing; modern and bright with dazzling harbour and bridge views from the upper level. Living there would be like being on holiday all year around. It would be great for any of our visiting relatives; All the great things to do so close by would mean that I would hardly ever see them! I could work from home too, seeing as the home has four very nice bedrooms.

Andrew Stewart from Di Jones Real Estate said a very friendly "hello" when I teetered in on my uber-cool bondage stilettos (I was trying to look the part for my fashionista clients – and it hurt). He is such a history buff. Windmill Street used to have a windmill on it and the site at 80 Windmill Street was home to The Whaler's Arms pub in the early 1800's. After the pub moved, the site was a boarding house and a grocery store, before falling into disrepair and being knocked down in the early 1900's by The National Trust.

The beautiful modern house at 80 Windmill Street that now exists is surrounded by heritage listed buildings from the 1850's, and blends gently with them.  A sign saying that The Whaler's Arms once occupied the site is all that remains of the colourful history of the early days of Australia's European settlement. How amazing to be a part of such a historical area of Sydney. I got real goose bumps being in the home and felt a real sense of history. Anyway, after my whimsical trip back into history, I felt refreshed. In fact, I felt so renewed I teetered back into my meeting and...won...the...pitch. My Open for Inspection Girl lifestyle gives me a real treat each week – and these inspections and my dreams of living in these homes are more therapeutic than any new lipstick!

Next week: To Kensington or not to Kensington – that is the question (or so Josh and I are asking ourselves)....

Far Pavilions

It was 12:30 p.m. and my tummy was rumbling. Where was mum? We had planned to meet in the cafe at Peter's of Kensington for a sandwich and an update on her life in sunny Bowral before a session of power-shopping. We had a 1:30 p.m. viewing of a Kensington house that looks perfect for my darling family and we couldn't be late.

I spotted her strawberry blonde bob moving past the glassware section with her distinctive speedy elegance and in an eye blink was enveloped in her arms and the perfume smell of Miss Dior. It was her signature scent and had been since I gave her a bottle when I was seven; I had paid for it with my pocket money and the coins I retrieved from under my pillow, left by the tooth fairy.

We had a lovely lunch and mum bought me a French casserole dish for all the dinner parties that I plan to do, once I have a dining room big enough. As always, Mum looked great. She and dad had moved to Bowral three years ago after selling the family home in Vaucluse two months after my brother Jonathan moved out. I think she was enjoying the country. Her garden looked fantastic and dad played golf daily. But today she seemed restless. She says she's missing me and Alex. But if mum is more than five miles away from her two best male friends: David Jones and Peter's of Kensington for too long, she gets upset. Mum had a PHD in retail therapy and shopping emporiums are thin on the ground in the Southern Highlands.

After our reinvigorating shop (I got the most divine Alessi platter for the wedding that Josh and I are going to next month), we discovered a Pavilion Paradise on Imperial Avenue, one of Kensington's prettiest streets. Could this beautiful house be Josh and my new family home?

It's really hard to find a house that mum likes. She loved this one. That it had great gardens (a la Bowral) might have something to do with it, but as soon as we walked into the front door, we both immediately relaxed. Sigh. Jane Schumann from Di Jones knows mum really well; my parents had bought an investment property through Jane Schumann and Gary Sands at Di Jones before moving to Bowral. They chatted, catching up on life while I explored the house in more detail. It had everything I wanted, three bedrooms (two for the family and one for visitors), a great kitchen, lovely gardens and a wonderful pavilion style layout which would let us spend lazy weekend afternoons outdoors, relaxing by the pond. There was even a lovely garden shed that would be great as a cubbyhouse for Alex or for Josh to use as a workshop or a place to store his kayak gear. And doesn't every man want a shed? But what I loved most was the sense of peace I got as I walked through the house (and it was a very busy open for inspection too!) I felt like I was on holiday. Afterwards mum said the same thing; that it was like the serenity of Bowral within walking distance of Peter's of Kensington. No wonder I love it so much; I really am my mother's daughter.

I was so excited I called Josh. It's a tense time for him. He works at an investment bank and bonuses are announced next week. There's so much water cooler chatter that Josh is having trouble sleeping. After our chat last week, he agreed that he wanted to buy a place too; especially before prices go up, which all the economists seem to be predicting.

The Kensington house is beautiful, but prices are pretty strong at the moment and the bonus amount is a big question mark. Gary Sands invited us along to the next auction Di Jones is holding at Centennial Park to get a more personal idea of market sentiment; he is very considerate and understands my nervousness at doing a very grown up thing like buying a house.

Josh was very excited too. He said he'll come and have a look on Saturday afternoon when he usually does kayak training and Alex and I have some "mummy time". He has bought into my desire to own a house and loves my Open for Inspection Girl tales. In fact, he says he is my number one fan. What a dear, wonderful man he is.

Wonderful Woollahra

I have a dilemma.

Every Thursday I run through Sydney, visiting "open for inspection" houses, flats, pied –a-terres and other lovely lifestyles which verge from truly inspiring to "needs a bit of work". My trusty trainers know the hilly streets of Paddington, the glamour of Tamarama, the views from Bellevue Hills.

At each property for sale, I leave my Asics by the door and enter excitedly, usually met by a welcoming real estate agent, fresh bakery smells and the sounds of Vivaldi's Four Seasons. In my Longchamp carryall are my essentials: my run map, a bottle of water, my mobile and $50 for emergencies.

It has been a tough week. I've been working on my company, 'Sorted!' Event Management's bid to host the 2012 Fashion Expo, and Alex was sick for a few days. So between giving him vitamins, Vegemite toast and a mother's love I'm been barely holding it together, working from home and teleconferencing globally with a thermometer in one hand and a phone in the other. Josh is in hyper-drive training most mornings. He's a kayaker. The first time he told me of his paddling prowess, on our second date, I was impressed with visions of him magnificently handling rapids which cut a swathe through desolate, ice-capped mountains. The reality is 5:00 a.m. alarms and Josh finding me somewhere under the duvet to give me a kiss good morning before shrugging into his wetsuit and leaving to meet other power-paddlers on the harbour.

I took a personal stock take yesterday. I need:

·    To lose the three kilos I found under the Christmas tree and which have settled comfortably on my hips. Walking around the open inspections has got to be helping!

·    A new haircut. I used a voucher I got in the letter box for my last one. Bad mistake. A feather cut fringe just doesn't do the trick.

·    A bolt of inspiration for Joshua's birthday present. I got him the Top Gear DVD boxed set for Christmas (which he loved), and I'm at a bit of a loss as to what to give him this time around!

Thank goodness it's Thursday and time for my Open for Inspections!

I'm going to dress for success today.... some heels, a frock and a bit of lippy.  Open for Inspection Girl is sashaying through Woollahra and it's all rather lovely. I know it's called a village, but I think Woollahra is more like a wonderful carnival with so many exquisite sights to behold. I sat under a magnificent tree enjoying a latte at Cafe Crème Anglais and watched the crowds stroll on by. I kept getting wonderful wafts from the flowers at Summers Floral mixed with a miasma of jasmine and mint (someone must have sprayed liberally at Jo Malone while considering their purchase options). There were some models up the road being photographed in fabulous outfits outside some of the gorgeous homes along Queen Street.....no Christmas kilos on their hips! I'll look out for those pics in the upcoming fashion magazine editions.  

I finish my coffee and check my watch. 10:00 a.m. Time for today's real estate inspections.

First off, straight to a home I fell in love with the minute I saw it in advertised by Di Jones Real Estate in The Wentworth Courier. Ocean Street Dream is a three bedroom dreamy family home with the most divine front entrance; it's a sanctuary from reality. Very modern, extremely comfortable and with a courtyard I would love to entertain in. Alex could have friends over, Josh could read the paper in peace on a Saturday morning before an afternoon BBQ with divine meats from Victor Churchill's – and isn't that an amazing place! Josh and I could take Alex for scooter, bike or horse rides around Centennial Park, just minutes away. Actually, that is where Di Jones holds their auctions. If we were to buy this home, we could walk back through the park and past the home after the auction, treading the path for the first time that would become our regular trek. It is too early for us though. We haven't worked out our budget, haven't arranged pre-approval with the bank....mental note: we must get onto that.

So my dilemma is what is an Open for Inspection Girl to do? Josh and I love living in Paddington. We love our two bed room flat we lease through Di Jones Real Estate but we have been renting for a while now. Should we bite the bullet and buy? If we do, our reality will be definitely different from today's real estate dreamings. Interest rates went up this week, and clearance rates at auction have been high. This all makes it a little tougher for us, but we have been talking about buying for a while now. Mum called me about a lovely home in Kensington that she thinks I should look at. She is even going to come with me next week to see it, and has suggested we nip into Peters of Kensington for a girls' afternoon of shopping. Can't wait......

Next week: Josh is keen to buy, and it looks like he is going to get a bonus...not sure how much, but it will help no doubt, so I'm back pounding the pavements with vigour, and this time, I know I am actually looking for our new home.....

 

Paddington Dreaming...

Post-it notes? Check.

Black Texta pen? Check?

The Sydney street directory; copied pages of maps 257 and 251? Check.

Freshly printed copies of The Wentworth Courier and Domain East from The Sydney Morning Herald? Oooh, Check, check, check.

I'm ready. So, which life should I try on today?

If I want to be an inner city cool person, au fait with Facebook and Twitter, with a sleek city job, I'll focus on the immaculate one and two bedroom all white apartments, complete with compact kitchen, city glimpses and secure off-street parking (for my vespa and skis). They might be in Elizabeth Bay or Surry Hills, complete with cool bars and locals wearing Paul Smith by day and True Religion jeans for play.

If I want to be an upsizing banker, lawyer or doctor with a bigger-bonus-budget, I'll need a beautiful view and a quality street somewhere in Bellevue Hill or Vaucluse. I won't mind if it's got mustard wallpaper or grass green carpet from being "lovingly held by the same family since 1977", as I have good taste and an even better interior decorator.

No. Not today. Though both characters seem very nice, I'm sure, and because the reassuring heft of the magazines reveals there will be enough properties this week to satisfy all property wants and needs, today I've just gotta be me, JoJo Everett.

Working mother of one, happily married to Joshua, all tenderly and tightly ensconced in a lovely Paddington apartment, but wouldn't mind more space, a bit of a backyard and perhaps a harbour glimpse. I arrange the post its and street map, remove the lid from my black marker pen (quick sniff) and open the pages of the first magazine.

Everyone needs a hobby, right?

15 minutes later and I have my short list for tomorrow, a 9:45 am start after I drop my son Alex off to school. 10 properties, each with three bedrooms, "room for improvement" and in good Paddington streets. Years of dream property searching has made me ruthlessly efficient. Lovely house but wrong street? No. Great street but bad renovation, adding cost but no value? No thanks. Great house, great street, facing north-west? Yes please.

Choosing to be me, and looking at Paddington houses means I can comfortably do the 10 houses in the three hours I allot every week for my run through the eastern suburbs. If I choose to be a Bellevue Hill voyeur I might only make four properties, as there may be fewer properties available to view or they may be a farther jog apart. If I venture further afield to Randwick, I can see lots more homes, but have to build in the travel time, running from my Paddington/Edgecliff abode, past Centennial Park into wider, longer, more complicated street grids.

I finish off the remains of my Jones the Grocer skinny latte, snap the lid back on the texta and fold my marked map (only page 257 needed today). I'm refreshed and ready for my Thursday round of open for inspections.

Thursday afternoon: 14:00 hours.

Pay dirt.

Today I found the perfect house, for Joshua, Alex and me. It's not easy. Josh is over six feet tall, so we need high ceilings. Alex is seven and a boy. So we need: good soundproofing, tolerant (or deaf or louder) neighbours, a bit of a backyard, within 10 minutes walk of Alex's school. I need a good sized third bedroom for a home office and spare bedroom for Joshua's family infrequent visits from Melbourne. I'd prefer it if they stayed in a hotel but they just won't take the hint no matter how many brochures I leave on their bedside table for Tracey McArdle Executive Leasing.

I had dropped Alex off at his school at 9:00 a.m., had a brief chat with another mum about the rising incidence of nits in the schoolyard (thrilling stuff to mums) and hit the pavement for my first 9:30 a.m. open, an easy 15 minute jog away, on the other side of Oxford Street. Alas, it was a fizzer. A badly done 1997 renovation, executed (by the look of it) by the same guy who did the Playboy mansion. Tangerine marble bathrooms with gold plated taps. A mirrored bar in the living room. Hmm. I don't think so. Homes two to seven were, alas, not to my taste either.

But at 11:30 I saw house number eight. It was lovely.

It was at 32 Norfolk Street Paddington, and it had "JoJo's new house" practically written on the doormat. Three big bedrooms, ours with aircon., a courtyard for me to work from and for us to host dinner parties in, neat as a new pin in my favourite colour scheme – black and white; and in a cul-de-sac for Alex to ride his scooter in. P.E.R.F.E.C.T.

Here's a link to have a squiz:

32 Norfolk Street, Paddington

The lovely agents Gary Sands and Jane Schumann from Di Jones, who I know quite well (some agents get to see me almost every week, not including holidays) let me linger longer than needed and after the inspection had officially ended. Sigh. It's perfect. Except I haven't spoken to Joshua about moving. Yet. Or selling our unit. Yet. Still, this week's open for inspection dreaming has fitted me like a warm leather glove. Yumm.

Next week: I think I'll act out my inner lady who lunches and have a stroll through lovely Woollahra....