MY STEPSON and his partner have been spending -- perhaps enduring -- weekends of house-hunting in Wellington.
I say enduring because the typical Sunday session of going around open homes is an intense exercise in the capital city. Parking becomes difficult, even on a basic suburban street, because so many people want to view the houses. In some cases, people have to queue to view a home.
Now we hear that a vast tract of farmland near Porirua could be opened up to meet the demands of housebuyers. In a few years' time, Churton Park will join up with Tawa, as the last of the farmland of my childhood is subdivided into suburbia.
I contrast this as my neighbour and I in Featherston do some spontaneous do-gooding in boarding up some broken windows and doors of derelict houses close to us.
Kids have been using them as hangouts, and I have no doubt across Featherston there are perfectly robust, serviceable houses lying vacant among weeds, except for the occasional visit from youngsters with cigarettes and a six-pack of Codys.
