Bloom of the yellow rose

This weekend in Winchelsea 8/9 June

It’s been many months of feeling like more effort has been drawn than progress made on Richert Ranch, but then this weekend came along, a yellow rose bloomed in our garden and puzzle pieces began to slot in. The most important of which was Sam’s Permanent Residency Visa which came through after more than a year of waiting. On the signal of a new bloom, we have spent the weekend basking in the fruits of our labour.

Sam and I use a task board to manage our to-do’s. Every Thursday night on the drive over we discuss the agenda. What Sam wants to get done, what I want to get done. As the weekend’s progress we navigate ‘spanners’. Things we didn’t get from Bunnings, more coats of paint than we’d bargained for, more time on a task than we’d allowed. Sam walks around sucking his teeth, a habit I’ve never noticed before. Often we end our weeks feeling exhausted and not at all productive. We spend the drive back to the city discussing all the list items that weren’t ticked, all the things we need to circle back on and skirt diligently around the ‘why are we even doing this’ admission.

Dare I be bold enough to go on a tangent here, but there was a change this week, a gift of sorts from our garden that I think signalled the ending of our season of doubt. At the front of our house are unruly stems of some 37 rose bushes. They were in bloom when we first bought the house, one red rose left to welcome us when we moved in, but then I assumed they had become dormant for the winter. Lately I have begun to notice bulbs appearing and each week has been a surprise to witness a new one in bloom. I am fascinated by it, as happy as a kid on Christmas with these unexpected presents, and have been recording the colours as they unwrap themselves. On my regular inspection rounds this weekend, Sam pointed to a new one, a yellow one, the first of the garden and my favourite. I felt pure unadulterated joy.

The bloom of this yellow rose was just one of the many highlights from this week. Sam’s visa of course, but also the completion of painting in our lounge room, the preparation done for wallpaper in the ‘good lounge’, our chandeliers and sconces fitted with bulbs, door handles installed, as too were the blinds, and the TV. Such an array of successes enabled us moments of tools down, a leisurely drive and Sunday roast in Forrest, a movie night and slow, easy mornings. This has been the first weekend we have been able to do any such thing.

Of course our agenda continues, as does the work. Next to complete is our frame wall in the lounge, the painting of four bookshelves (my project, my burden), and the wallpaper in the ‘good lounge’ - my future office. Sam has his sights set on re-staining two bedside tables before tackling the painting in the hallway.

I have been fed many videos on Instagram about the headache that is renovating/redecorating, but perhaps this is exactly what makes it so addictive. The one weekend, after more than 10, when you can finally see your work approach completion. Like the eventual bloom of a yellow rose.