Rusted-on readers will know we’re on a journey into the badlands of subdivision. I posted about it here, here and here.

There’s not been much posting about it since.

You see, if you live in an area with a “heritage overlay” populated by notorious objectors to most developments, you’re best to keep your head down – fly under the radar, if you will – while your development planning application wends its own little solo journey through the black hole that is council’s planning department.

We’ve been sitting on our hands, biding our time, keeping it on the down-low and putting our trust in our consultant and architect that all will turn out OK.

And it has.

Ta-dah! We have planning approval for our little subdivision.

And it came relatively easily. Council did insist we build a carport for our existing property (adding $8-$10K to our budget), resize a couple of windows in our to-be-built townhouse and add a privacy screen here and there.

All up, the result is brilliant. No major changes to our floorplan and our consultant has already crunched the numbers and found some savings in the budget to help defray the small blowout.

And so it’s begun. We’ve kicked the decluttering into full-on panic mode and are planning a garage sale in the next few weeks (some time just before our triple garage gets demolished).

We’re dealing with council again (waiting on a building permit for the carport they insisted we incorporate) and also wrangling with PowerCor to re-work our power connection from the rear to the front of our property.

We’ve demolished part of our six-foot-tall brick fence to make way for a new driveway, exposing ourselves to the busy-ness of Aberdeen Street. My secret garden is no more.

We’re waiting. As we knew we would be. Always waiting … for a tradie, an approval, a quote, an inspection.

And, of course, I’m still waiting for Kevin McCloud to arrive, be surprised about our plans, dubious about our budget yet intrigued enough to come back again in a few months time to check on our progress (probably in the midst of a 100-year weather event when I decide to announce I’m expecting our third child … oh, hang on).

Anyway, Kevin aside, our project is as frightening as ever. And as exciting as ever. We’re deep in fresh territory for us. Next up is getting our architect to convert our planning drawings into detailed building plans. Then we need to find a builder. Yikes!

For now, we live on a demolition/building site.

Mr P bought me these.

You know, for when I’m on site, breaking new ground, building stuff, hanging with the trades. I even have a hi-vis vest. #safetyfirst

We’ve moved far beyond the point of no return. We’re taking every day as it comes and committing – boots and all – to the final outcome.

Eye on the prize.

Eye on the prize.