Part 2: 34 Westbrook – From Home to House.

9 Jul










Following on from the pervious post, for the next few entries, I’ve decided to document my thoughts, rants and ravings about moving out of my childhood home. Yes, I am turning 25 years old. Yes, I am still living at home. Yes, I still ring my mum daily asking ‘What’s for dinner?’. Don’t judge me. It’s comfortable and I’m saving…to move out by myself. So, what’s the plan: Moving out of 34 Westbrook & into a new home designed by my artist mother & chartered accountant father (Honestly, they would be mean contenders for the block or grand designs – once finished it will be a beauty).

I have played, laughed, danced & slammed doors in the same home for over 24 years. The time has come to sell it. I thought I’d be totally cool with it. I realise now…that I am not.

My mum’s new favourite word is…boxes. Everything is about boxes…’put this in the ‘keep box’, ‘put this in the throw away box’, ’what the hell is in this box?’…’you must label ALL boxes?” And so it goes on. I don’t blame her, it’s a huge job and she is doing an amazing job…but  to reduce my ‘box’ fatigue, I’m trying to encourage to replace it with abother word…any ideas? Container, 4-sided cube, vessel…

This week we have fallen asleep passed out to the smell of fresh paint fumes. Next week new carpets will be laid and in four weeks time it will be on the market. It’s all happening to fast.

Our home, is slowly transforming into our house. Our paintings, photo frames &  knick-knacks collected over the years are slowly dissapearing either to eager members on e-bay or into storage in my grandfather’s garage. I am suprised at how these bare walls are effecting me emotionally.

A room that once reflected my personality (See photo above- yes, admittedly I had to wear sunglasses whilst studying for the HSC as the green & orange walls reflected onto my white paper) has now turned into something that resembles a cell in a mental asylum. White, White, White. P.S. FYI:- I’m not tasteless. Lime green, orange & hot pink were totally ‘in’ vogue in 1998.

As our family photos get ripped down and are replaced my generic vases. As our couches that are snuggly molded to our body shapes are replaced by stiff, hard generic benches. Our home is now becoming a house. I’ll save the emotional outcry for another post, but still I am comforting myself with the belief that memories do not live in a place – they live with you….they travel with you. Yes, objects, smells etc can act as a catalyst to encourage dormant  memories to bubble up to the conscious surface…. but so do smells, photos & the people you love!

Yes, we might be saying goodbye to Westbrook Avenue, but our crazy family will just be creating new/more memories at Northwood…our new home.

P.S. To all the stalkers out there, I just realised I shouldn’t have given away my address…


One Response to “Part 2: 34 Westbrook – From Home to House.”

  1. Fox July 14, 2011 at 7:30 am #

    Moving out.. jealous..
    I feel your pain, both ways, wanting to be out already, but also leaving childhood behind…
    I am still at home too!
    How very exciting Nix

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