It’s not the first home I’ve ever owned. That privilege goes to my apartment, which I officially bid farewell to last month after almost six years.

But it’s the first house I’ve ever owned. And who knows? Life is what happens when you’re busy making plans, right? But I bought it thinking it might just be the first family home I ever own.

I picked up the keys last week. The agent met me at the front door. A big old villa in a great location with much more space than I have furniture for, and a backyard with a feijoa tree. I even bought a lawnmower. Me! A lawnmower! My first ever lawnmower. A home that would be perfect for kids. Perfect for BBQs. Perfect for visiting inlaws. I feel very fortunate, indeed.

At least, I did.

Ever since we went unconditional I’ve been counting down the days until my first sleep in the new pad. I thought my girlfriend and I would share a delicious dinner. I’d bring in my bed, make it up with my fanciest linen, and slip between the sheets for a glorious night of rest, blissful in the peace and security of my own four walls.

Instead, I spent my first night in the new pad alone, tossing and turning and tangling a sleeping bag on a blow up mattress with fever dreams and a dehydrated mucus mouth. Thanks Covid.

There will be other milestones to celebrate. My first night in a real bed. Our first meal at the dining table. Our first full mortgage repayments. GULP.

So many people have reassured me that after a few months, you just get used to paying the mortgage and don’t think too much of it. Given the size of my mortgage, I’m not quite so sure I’ll be forgetting it anytime soon. Doing the maths makes me want to throw up in my mouth.

But even though over the course of my adult lifetime I’ll be paying the equivalent of several years’ income in interest payments, there is one little thing I keep reminding myself of in an effort to quell my disgust.

Sure, I’ll be handing over hundreds of thousands of dollars in interest, but at least I’ll be handing it over to a New Zealand-owned bank.

I’m not suggesting the system is perfect. But don’t forget, as customers we still have choices.

It’s not the first home I’ve ever owned. That privilege goes to my apartment, which I officially bid farewell to last month after almost six years.
But it’s the first house I’ve ever owned. And who knows? Life is what happens when you’re busy making plans, right? But I bought it thinking it might just be the first family home I ever own.
I picked up the keys last week. The agent met me at the front door. A big old villa in a great location with much more space than I have furniture for, and a backyard with a feijoa tree. I even bought a lawnmower. Me! A lawnmower! My first ever lawnmower. A home that would be perfect for kids. Perfect for BBQs. Perfect for visiting inlaws. I feel very fortunate, indeed.
At least, I did.
Ever since we went unconditional I’ve been counting down the days until my first sleep in the new pad. I thought my girlfriend and I would share a delicious dinner. I’d bring in my bed, make it up with my fanciest linen, and slip between the sheets for a glorious night of rest, blissful in the peace and security of my own four walls.
Instead, I spent my first night in the new pad alone, tossing and turning and tangling a sleeping bag on a blow up mattress with fever dreams and a dehydrated mucus mouth. Thanks Covid.
There will be other milestones to celebrate. My first night in a real bed. Our first meal at the dining table. Our first full mortgage repayments. GULP.
So many people have reassured me that after a few months, you just get used to paying the mortgage and don’t think too much of it. Given the size of my mortgage, I’m not quite so sure I’ll be forgetting it anytime soon. Doing the maths makes me want to throw up in my mouth.
But even though over the course of my adult lifetime I’ll be paying the equivalent of several years’ income in interest payments, there is one little thing I keep reminding myself of in an effort to quell my disgust.
Sure, I’ll be handing over hundreds of thousands of dollars in interest, but at least I’ll be handing it over to a New Zealand-owned bank.
I’m not suggesting the system is perfect. But don’t forget, as customers we still have choices.

Jack Tame’s crisp perspective, style and enthusiasm makes for refreshing and entertaining Saturday morning radio on Newstalk ZB.

News, sport, books, music, gardens and celebrities – what better way to spend your Saturdays?

Jack Tame’s crisp perspective, style and enthusiasm makes for refreshing and entertaining Saturday morning radio on Newstalk ZB. News, sport, books, music, gardens and celebrities – what better way to spend your Saturdays?

Jack Tame’s crisp perspective, style and enthusiasm makes for refreshing and entertaining Saturday morning radio on Newstalk ZB.News, sport, books, music, gardens and celebrities – what better way to spend your Saturdays?