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.....