Neil Varcoe was a tech executive in Sydney until he bought an old hotel in Carcoar, NSW, population 272. Here’s the 15th instalment of his monthly column for Galah.
Tim Winton described it as "the hairy hand of God". It's an event that is so unlikely, so ridiculous, that it can be no other thing than shit luck. It is the kind of misfortune that sits in your guts, tapping on your ribs.
We tried to save a ramshackle shed that had no heritage value. It was a mongrel mix of three sheds, held together by its tin skin and a tree growing through it. The corrugated bitza was so wild that council were surprised we wanted to keep it. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Once the tree was removed, the shed leaned at an awful angle and then slowly collapsed. We salvaged the hardwood posts – axe strikes marking their flanks – and summoned the engineer. The Development Application had been breached, brushed aside by the hairy hand of God. We were no longer able to retain the timber structure in its fullness. “Retain and refurbish” was no longer possible. We must refurbish and rebuild, and that requires more paperwork.
We have met with council twice on the matter, and it's fair to say that they are not happy with us (God did not attend). Councils are cautious because people can be thugs. We are not, but we're treated with the same approach. They like to de-risk – fearful of lawsuits that might bankrupt them. Caution means reports for us, and reports cost money. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Back to the engineer. Back to the architect. Back to the certifier. Back to council. While I have written about my philosophical outlook on the project timeline, time is money. As our luck ran out with the old shed, so might our cash reserves. The planning process has already cost us two years and a third of the budget. We cannot sustain much more. God help us.
The Berryman children barrel down the path to our house like giants – their tiny shoes pounding the concrete. Why is it that little soles create the biggest sounds? School is out for the week, and Carcoar is expecting a dusting of snow – electricity is in the air.
A pocket projector beams Wicked onto a white wall – popcorn and butter fill the air. Edwina and I have run a gauntlet of meetings while she's in town, and we're bone-tired. While the children nestle into the couch, we recover with tea in the kitchen – grown-up chats without minor interruptions while chubby hands empty the popcorn bowl.
Running a business can be relentless. Raising kids is hard. There are ups and downs – sometimes concurrently. As the kids guffawed and chattered in the background, I'm reminded of why we're doing this, why we left the comfort of the city and a world we knew for a broken-down building and the unknown.
It's for moments like these – moments of connection – and a better life for ourselves, and the tiny tyrants with curiosity in their heads, and concrete in their shoes. It's to create – and be part of something more. It's to build a life for them that's rich in wonder. It's also to lift people up, not tear things down. That's something worth fighting for.
Do you grow dahlias? Our friends Starling Flowers (featured in Issue 12) share secrets to successful dahlia growing in their recent book, Secrets from the Flower Farm. Visit starlingflowers.com.au to order your copy (with free seeds), and while there, browse their collection of dahlia tubers and open-pollinated seeds from the flower farm. Their much-anticipated tuber sale is now live.
RAG Status Reporting is used in project management to update executives quickly using a traffic light system. "Red" means trouble, "amber" signals bumps in the road, and "green" means everything is fine.
Please see the latest report below. Reach out with thought bubbles so we can pivot to new strategies.
The Project is On Track
Thank you to Starling Flowers for sponsoring today's We Bought a Hotel.
