Home Sweet Home
The concept of "home" is a delightfully peculiar one.
It can be the country where you were born, the city you grew up in, a feeling or a certain place.
I'm still not sure where, or what, I class as home. We moved around in Britain as a family before emigrating to Christchurch in 2003.
My Dad's family is split between Cyprus and England, while Mum's family is dotted around Britain. Since moving to New Zealand, I've lived in 14 homes - from my parents' house to my university hall and the cold wooden villas I rented in St Albans.
But last Sunday, I knew where home was.
I feel so sorry for the poor buggers who live next to - or anywhere near - the Tilford St house that has been crowned Christchurch's rowdiest.
A property on an otherwise quiet suburban Woolston street received 71 noise complaints in the 12 months to the end of October 2014.
Neighbours are fed up but the occupants just do not care; although they did drop a note in some letterboxes warning of an impending 21st birthday celebration and asking neighbours not to be party poopers. How considerate.
I don't know how people tolerate being constantly aurally attacked - by loud music, shoddy drumming skills and late-night parties - in their own home.
As an aside, Robbie and I looked at a few properties in Tilford St during our house-hunting phase. Knowing our luck we would have ended up next door so I did a quick 'thank you house fairies' prayer when I saw the story last Saturday.
I've probably said this before, but I'll say it again.
Renovating a doer-upper offers both overwhelming levels of satisfaction and fear.
While you lovingly admire one finished wall, skirting board or assembled kitchen unit, your brain will suddenly turn on you. Within seconds you're cowering under the kitchen bench as you remember all the other walls, skirting boards and kitchen units that need your attention.
You have to focus on the small stuff and prioritise the big stuff.
I'm happy to report the toilet walls are no longer the buttery shade of brown which I hated as soon as we put it up.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Robbie and I had only the stat days off over the Christmas-New Year break, but we were determined to make the most of it.
After overindulging in bubbles and food on Christmas Day, we spent a piping hot Boxing Day attacking our overgrown garden. We weeded, trimmed, mowed, chopped and watered and discovered parts of the property previously hidden by foliage and an incredibly bushy lemon tree.
It took us the best part of the next day to take everything to the tip and tidy up, but it was worth it.
First-time homeowner GEORGINA STYLIANOU reflects on the year that has been.
On January 1 this year my partner Robbie and I woke up in Takaka and spent a rainy day playing cards and drinking tea.
"So shall we buy a house?" I remember him asking.
Seemed like a good goal for 2014.
"Ok, let's do it," I replied.
Blog terms and conditions
You're welcome to post in the comments section of our blogs. Please keep comments under 400 words. When submitting a comment, you agree to be bound by our terms and conditions.