Titles are always the hardest.

I thought, given that, these are crazy times we are living in, and right now, after many, many (many) months, there finally seems to be some words swirling around my head just begging to get out.  And while I can sit, mindlessly scrolling on my phone and popping a short story onto instagram, I'm missing the long, comfortable pace of a blog post where I can stretch my writing legs and tell a proper story without squinting my ageing eyes onto a tiny square.  Surprisingly I can remember how this blogging thing works and plan to spend some time kicking around here.  I may be a bit rusty, but like the first pancake, which is always a disaster and ends up in the chook bucket, the best thing to do is to start.

So without further ado, let's begin. Again. With a new story.

Last time we spoke we bought a farm, and things were looking up.  After two years of paperwork, permits, business plans, designs, hard graft and eye-watering costs, we were just about to press go on the civil works.  The builders were ready to start building our dream home, high on a windy hill in a beautiful paddock with views both east and west for miles down the valley.

It was awful.

For lots of knotty, stomach wrenching, lying awake at night reasons.  Financial, emotional, physical, here we were as family putting our everything into a project that left us feeling drained, stressed and miserable.

So we changed course and did something crazy, sold our beloved weatherboard farmhouse and bought a rundown two storey Edwardian bank on the shores of the Huon River.  And why not? With 400 square metres to rattle around in, consisting of 22 rooms with eight fireplaces, a magnificent blackwood staircase, right on the highway in the village of Franklin, it's almost identical to running a 35 acre farm.

The building boasts a colourful past, built as a quite fancy bank back in 1906, it's also been a hospital and seen over 3000 babies born in its rooms, it's been emergency housing for some colourful characters, government offices, a community centre, employment agency, antique store, backpackers and now a family home.

It's been loved and unloved, stood derelict for a time, burnt, vandalised, dozens of holes drilled into walls for data cables, fax machines, alarms. Doors have been kicked in, turned upside down and had ugly handles and bolts attached. Roofing gutters left unattended now spout a surprising diversity of grasses, possums live in the roof and power points dangle from cables off the wall.  Thankfully, the magnificent proportions and many gracious features still remain.

It's been five months since we picked up the keys, and currently we have no floorboards in the hallway, no heating, no insulation and a terrible rising damp problem. The possums, for now, are gone.   But we love living here and while of course we're daunted by the enormity of the project, it's a challenge we're willing to rise to.

Fancy joining us for the ride?

Well then, let's melt some butter in a frypan, and start cooking those pancakes.

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