The house that John built

On a bush block on the outskirts of Burnie there stands a rather fine edifice. It's an owner built, architect designed masterpiece, and it was put up by my old friend and colleague, John. He spent a few years in the late seventies doing the bulk of the work, but during the years since he and Sheryl have added to it, furbished and refurbished it into the terrific homely abode I visited once again the other week. 

My bushwalkers and I were honoured to be invited there for dinner one evening during our visit. Our hosts did us proud with a fine vegetarian banquet, and a good time was had by all. Thanks so much for your hospitality, John and Sheryl.

The house that John built had a particularly important role for me. Before arriving in Tasmania I'd never really met anyone who'd built their own house, as in doing nearly all the work themselves. Suddenly there were lots of them all around me. John in particular seemed to be doing a rather meritorious job of it. If he can do it, then so can I, I reasoned.

And I did indeed go on to build my own house too - a somewhat smaller and less ambitious one, but a real house which I came to be rather proud of. A house that took up just about all my spare time (evenings, weekends, and holidays) for nearly two years. It was probably the biggest thing I'd ever done, but also one of the most rewarding. Here's a picture of the house that Nick built, as it looked on completion 30 years ago.
 

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