After more than three months of hunting for a new rental, Tom and I finally got the call: our application for a beautiful bayside house had been accepted. We were thrilled—and a bit anxious. Moving is always stressful: there are so many details, unexpected costs, and the sentimental tug. I knew I would miss Abbotsford—our house, the vibe, Yarra Bend Park, and the Park Hotel. Our first two years in Australia felt deeply rooted in that neighborhood. Still, we wanted to downsize, save money, and get to know another part of the city.
Our new place is about 12 km (7.5 miles) south, in the northwest corner of Brighton.
It’s an affluent, bayside suburb that is close to the beach and less compact than the inner north.
Turns out the owner had two small dogs and there were large, untreated urine stains soaked into the hardwood in the living area. I wasn’t sure what to do: movers were booked for the next morning. When I told Tom, he promised that we’d figure it out.
Saturday was the big day. I drove the cats down first thing and set them up in the bathroom; thankfully, they adjusted quickly. The movers were efficient—all of our belongings were moved in two trucks in two hours.
Tom confirmed the odor and we reported it right away. The property manager was initially cagey and dismissive—at one point suggesting I mop the floors and buy candles—but eventually she admitted there was a problem and contacted the owner. Fortunately, the owner agreed to replace the affected floorboards, but the soonest it could happen was a month after we’d moved in.
Normally I try to keep this blog pretty light-hearted, but I want to be honest: those first two weeks were really hard. After the emotional and logistical slog of moving, I was ready to make the new place ours—clean, unpacked, settled. Instead, we were stuck in limbo: uncertain whether we’d be able to (or want to) stay. The odor was strongest in the living area, where we spend most of our free time and keep most of our furniture—so we couldn't unpack properly.
The next hurdle will be navigating the renovation at the end of November. The contractor said the job could be done in one day, but that one day involves squeezing our living-room furniture into the rest of our small home, covering everything in plastic to prevent the sanding from getting everywhere, and figuring out what to do with the cats and where to work—all for a problem we didn’t create. There's also no guarantee the work will fully fix the issue. While most stains and odor are concentrated in the living room, there are other yellow stains that suggest accidents had happened elsewhere too.
The weather hasn't helped—it’s been wet and cool—and that makes everything feel heavier. I've had trouble sleeping, felt low on energy, and carried a steady dose of anxiety. I know, rationally, that this is a small blip in the grand scheme of things, but it feels significant right now.
Still, the house has so much potential if we can get this sorted, and there are small things that are keeping me grounded: focusing on work and checking out the local cycling routes and outdoor pools. I've also returned to ocean swimming, which is now warming up and much more accessible from our new house.
Happily, there's some big news back home: my sister Rita had a baby! Welcome to the world, Arden Josef. That tiny human is a beautiful reminder that even amid chaos, life keeps delivering lovely surprises.
