Latest news with #HillsHoist
Courier-Mail
7 days ago
- Business
- Courier-Mail
Massive price for 1960s time capsule home
A 1960s house, built by a carpenter for his family and preserved as if time stood still, has sold for $2.405m, setting a new benchmark for an original property in one of the Gold Coast's most sought-after beachside pockets. With a Hills Hoist in the backyard and lace tablecloths in the kitchen, the cottage amazed buyers with its immaculately preserved tableau of the past as it came to market for the first time ever. The three-bedroom, two-bathroom house on a 670 sqm lot at 9 Tawarri Cres, Burleigh Heads, sold 11 days after listing, to a local buyer planning to build a family home. Marketing agent Paddy Quinn, of PRD Burleigh Heads, said the price was the highest achieved for an original home in the popular community of Koala Park, located close to picturesque Tallebudgera Creek. 'This is a prime lifestyle location where high-end luxury homes have sold for phenomenal amounts, and the result is testament to how competitive it has become to get into Koala Park,' Mr Quinn said. The last comparable sale was a four-bedroom house on the same street, sold for $1.94m in December and on the market for the first time in 26 years. MORE NEWS Burleigh 'marble mansion' up for rent Inside content creator's $2.7m dream home switch Qld renters missing out on energy bill relief With its cream and green exterior, retro coloured glass, shagpile carpets and shelves displaying religious figures, Mr Quinn said the house at 9 Tawarri sent many buyers on a trip down memory lane. 'The home had never been renovated and was kept pretty much as though time had stood still since the 1960s,' he said. 'The idea of the campaign was firstly, to pay homage to the vendors' late parents for their quality construction of a home that showcases enduring craftsmanship and timeless character – the saying, 'they don't build them like they used to', comes to mind.' It was sold as a deceased estate, and had been home to the seller's mother, a beloved local character known as 'Terry', since it was built until her death aged 91. 'It was a one-of-a-kind house built with a lot of love for a very loving family.' PropTrack data shows house prices in Burleigh Heads were up 16.2 per cent over the past 12 months to a median of $1.569m.
SBS Australia
17-06-2025
- Climate
- SBS Australia
Weather and words. Language and living
More resources for language educators Watch Weird and Wonderful Aussie English on SBS On Demand Howie: One day, my Aussie friend said to me, 'Just put it on the hills!' Then I realised — they meant The Hills Hoist. From my research, I've learned that Aussie English is shaped by how people live — the weather, the land, and the way we make ourselves at home. So why do Aussies talk about living the way they do? And what does it tell us about life in Australia? Aussie homes — and our weather — have shaped how we speak. Life in Australia can be harsh and varies across the country. In the Northern Territory, there's no winter — just different types of summer. To newcomers, Australian seasons might not make much sense. That's because the traditional seasons — summer, autumn, winter, spring — were imported from Europe. These seasons explain how the Earth moves, but they don't reflect what's really happening here — when flowers bloom, when crops should be harvested, or when to do controlled burns of bushland. Australia's Indigenous people had a 60,000-year head start observing nature. Many had their own seasonal calendars — two, six, even eight seasons. These Indigenous seasons are based on natural signs. Some last weeks, others span months. If you're interested, you can explore your local Indigenous knowledge sources. Living here means adapting — especially to the weather. You might hang your washing in the bright sun and get hit by rain 20 minutes later. The Hills Hoist has been a backyard staple since the mid-20th century. Many Aussies now use 'Hills' as shorthand for any clothes-drying. Fun fact: In 1945, Sherry Hill complained that traditional washing lines messed up her garden. Her husband Lance Hill created a new invention — and the Hills Hoist was born. Today we use it for drying clothes, party games, and more. Like our weather — and our slang — the Hills Hoist is always spinning. Aussies take pride in adaptability and hard work. One iconic word is 'swagman' (or 'swaggie') — a travelling worker from Australia's 19th and early 20th centuries. You might know them from the song Waltzing Matilda. Swagmen roamed from place to place looking for work, carrying all their belongings rolled up in a blanket, called a 'Matilda.' After a long day of waltzing — or walking — they'd cuddle up with their Matilda for the night. Australia is known for casual living — and that includes party timing. If the event is a backyard barbie or a park catch-up, the start time is often just a suggestion. If it's at a restaurant or formal venue, though — arrive on time. No matter the setting, Aussies love a good chat. And we have some great words for that too. The word 'yarn' likely started as a nautical term. By the mid-19th century, people in Australia and New Zealand used it to mean chatting or storytelling. For many Indigenous Australians, 'yarning' has a deeper cultural meaning. Since the 1980s, yarning circles have been a safe, respectful space for storytelling and knowledge sharing. Whether you call it a 'chinwag' or a 'yarn,' Australians love gathering to share stories in a welcoming place. It's part of what defines our culture — being flexible, open, and connected. From surviving extreme climates to inventing backyard icons like the Hills Hoist, Aussie living shapes Aussie language. Whether we're finding ways to deal with the weather or sitting down for a yarn, we share everything — from food to stories. And the most wonderful part? Everyone — from locals to migrants — can be part of it. We're all shaping and sharing this unique Australian way of life. Weird and Wonderful Aussie English Video production company: New Mac Video Agency
The Age
12-06-2025
- Automotive
- The Age
Beyond the claptrap and cliche: Tim Ross' top architectural treasures
There's plenty of claptrap in the cliche about the Australian dream, says self-described architecture nerd and comedian Tim Ross. The idealised version is a three-bedroom home on a quarter-acre block in the suburbs with a Hills Hoist, a Holden in the driveway and a lawnmower defining a kingdom of neat grass. But that cliche has never been the whole story, Ross said. A new exhibition opening at the State Library of NSW on Saturday, curated by Ross and specialist librarian Anna Dearnley, debunks the myth with stories of people and buildings that have shaped our homes. For many Australians, the sound and smells of suburbia relates to freshly mown lawns. But the inventor of the Victa motorised petrol mower, Mervyn Victor Richardson, escaped suburbia for Palm Beach once he made his fortune. Ross said Richardson commissioned and built a mid-century modern home by architect Peter Muller on a rocky bushy block at Palm Beach that didn't look like any of the project homes going up across Sydney. 'He built this house that was virtually 'lawn-less',' Ross said. Richardson's story showed how rapidly Australians took to the suburbs, and how deeply entrenched the backyard was in the Australian dream. As project homes went up across Australia, Victa sales rocketed from 1070 petrol-powered mowers in 1950 to 230,721 a decade later. It is estimated that the now overseas-owned company sold nearly 7 million mowers by 2002. Ross said the photographs by famous photographer Max Dupain of Richardson give Muller and his home a 'part Bond villain, part Thunderbird look'. The pool had a swim-up bar which opened on to the living room and Richardson would commute via seaplane. 'It's a strange success story. If anything, the role [of the photo of the house] in the exhibition is to be that sort of knockout moment of architecture porn,' he said.
Sydney Morning Herald
12-06-2025
- Automotive
- Sydney Morning Herald
Beyond the claptrap and cliche: Tim Ross' top architectural treasures
There's plenty of claptrap in the cliche about the Australian dream, says self-described architecture nerd and comedian Tim Ross. The idealised version is a three-bedroom home on a quarter-acre block in the suburbs with a Hills Hoist, a Holden in the driveway and a lawnmower defining a kingdom of neat grass. But that cliche has never been the whole story, Ross said. A new exhibition opening at the State Library of NSW on Saturday, curated by Ross and specialist librarian Anna Dearnley, debunks the myth with stories of people and buildings that have shaped our homes. For many Australians, the sound and smells of suburbia relates to freshly mown lawns. But the inventor of the Victa motorised petrol mower, Mervyn Victor Richardson, escaped suburbia for Palm Beach once he made his fortune. Ross said Richardson commissioned and built a mid-century modern home by architect Peter Muller on a rocky bushy block at Palm Beach that didn't look like any of the project homes going up across Sydney. 'He built this house that was virtually 'lawn-less',' Ross said. Richardson's story showed how rapidly Australians took to the suburbs, and how deeply entrenched the backyard was in the Australian dream. As project homes went up across Australia, Victa sales rocketed from 1070 petrol-powered mowers in 1950 to 230,721 a decade later. It is estimated that the now overseas-owned company sold nearly 7 million mowers by 2002. Ross said the photographs by famous photographer Max Dupain of Richardson give Muller and his home a 'part Bond villain, part Thunderbird look'. The pool had a swim-up bar which opened on to the living room and Richardson would commute via seaplane. 'It's a strange success story. If anything, the role [of the photo of the house] in the exhibition is to be that sort of knockout moment of architecture porn,' he said.
The Guardian
07-03-2025
- Lifestyle
- The Guardian
‘The only way I can survive': co-living as a single parent
I was a single parent to an eight-year-old, balancing parenting and part-time work with completing a master's degree in 2020. My son and I lived in a converted Queenslander, and despite its somewhat faded charm and convenient location, the flat had no living room, back yard, ceiling fans or air-conditioning. We got by with limited space until lockdowns meant I spent almost all of my time at the kitchen table – working, completing uni assignments, trying to homeschool a very active child, writing, eating and socialising via Zoom. By the middle of the year I was dreaming of an alternative home with more space, even though I didn't think I could afford it. In the same year I moved in with a friend, Jen. Although Jen and I had never lived together, we had known each other since high school, and we knew each other's families. I was friends with her partner and most importantly, I trusted her with my child. Our combined income meant we could afford a three-bedroom house with air-con and a huge back yard – big enough for a trampoline, a Hills Hoist, a veggie patch and an out-of-control passionfruit vine. For the first time in my son's life he had space for hide and seek and back yard birthday parties. My outgoings were also drastically reduced; Jen and I opened a joint bank account and shared bills, groceries, petrol and household necessities. My experience is mirrored in many ways by Lenine Bourke, a renter from Brisbane who co-parents her 12-year-old with her ex-partner and solo parents her six-year-old. Bourke has lived in many iterations of shared housing since becoming a parent. 'When my eldest was little, my partner and I lived with my best mate in Sydney so we could afford a beachside unit. And then when I became a single parent I rented a house in Brisbane and often had other people living in my spare room – friends, nannies, even my mum for a while,' she says. Bourke says shared living is a 'game-changer' for single parents like herself. 'I work 20 hours a week in the not-for-profit sector and I'm a full-time carer for one of my kids who has complex disabilities. Being able to reduce my overheads is the only way I can survive.' Housing and financial hardship are two of the biggest concerns facing single parents in Australia, says Jenny Davidson, CEO of the Council of Single Mothers and their Children (CSMC). 'Housing has been in our top issues for over a decade,' she says. 'Yet despite that long history, it's worse than ever, and it's probably going to get worse before it gets better.' Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning Single parents are disproportionately affected by what Davidson describes as the 'double whammy' of affordability and availability, saying 'we frequently hear from single mothers who have applied for 40, 60, 100 rental properties'. Even when single parents can afford to live alone, they're often not considered suitable renters. 'It's really hard for a single-parent family to get on that shortlist taken to the owners.' In CSMC's 2022 national survey of single mothers, respondents were found to experience homelessness or marginalised housing at over three times the national average. Shared living arrangements are a lifeline for people like Bourke, who is now in a more formalised version of shared living, in a dual-occupancy house owned by her friend Coonan. 'Coonan and I have known each other for a long time, and I knew he was looking for a long-term tenant. My rent kept going up but the house I was living in was falling apart and no maintenance was ever done, so I approached Coonan.' Bourke and her kids moved in upstairs, while Coonan lives downstairs with his three kids aged six, four and two. 'Having a landlord can always be tricky, but having one that cares about me and my family with a three-year lease is amazing,' says Bourke. Davidson has seen the desire for co-living grow as a response to the cost-of-living crisis, with CSMC recently including a guide to shared housing on their website. CSMC also runs a closed Facebook group for single mothers looking for co-living solutions to the housing crisis, which Davidson says has 'grown exponentially' to almost 3,000 members. Sign up to Saved for Later Catch up on the fun stuff with Guardian Australia's culture and lifestyle rundown of pop culture, trends and tips after newsletter promotion Aside from housing security, I've experienced other unexpected benefits to co-living. Jen had a geriatric cat, Pancakes, who became a much-loved member of our family. We were also able to pool resources – we set up a monthly savings goal and used the money to take holidays together. When I had to work late or attend an evening lecture, Jen looked after my son and prepared dinner. My mental load lightened significantly, and as a household we had the capacity to host regular dinners for other families, sending them home with plastic containers filled with leftovers. This sense of community and solidarity is one of the biggest benefits to shared living. It's a way to combat what Davidson calls the 'critical and ongoing' social isolation that single parents often face. Elle Sitek, a counsellor who runs an online resource for single mums called Beanstalk, says single parents 'still seem to be very much struggling alone'. 'From a mental health perspective, shared housing is a wonderful solution,' says Sitek. Bourke agrees: 'When I come home after a rough day with the kids I can pop downstairs for a cuppa and a debrief with another queer single parent who understands my lived experiences.' Of course, it's not all utopian living and rainbows. Davidson encourages parents to treat co-living on a case-by-case basis. 'Think carefully before you move in with somebody, and try to come up with a list of critical things that you need to try to compare and contrast.' For Bourke, this meant having honest conversations about expectations and boundaries, as well as discussing the practicalities of co-living – 'things like noise, sleep routines, car parks, yard access, rubbish removal, visitors, dating, and even sharing a washing machine'. With a laugh, Bourke adds: 'Sometimes I need to make a run down to the shared washing machine draped in a sarong, but I prepared Coonan for that.' Single parents may have to compromise space and privacy depending on the types of dwellings available for co-living, says Davidson. Dual living properties are a popular option, but they can be hard to find. 'Because we live in two separate dwellings on the same property, when the kids are dysregulated we can go to our own space to regroup, whereas I've had friends who shared one big house which involved a lot more negotiating when it came to parenting styles and the needs of the kids,' says Bourke. This was echoed by other parents I've spoken with. Co-living arrangements seem to work best when participants already have long and established friendships, as do households where children are of similar ages, or where families have their own space for retreat. My co-living arrangement came to an end last year when Jen had a baby and moved in with her partner. I put off moving out of our house for over a year as I searched – without luck – for a suitable housemate. I'm about to make my fourth move since becoming a single parent eight years ago. In that time, rent in my pocket of Brisbane has risen astronomically – a two-bedroom flat now costs more than a three-bedroom house did in 2020. This puts me, along with many others, into what is classed as rental stress. Housing touches on many of the issues facing single parents, and co-living is often a choice made in response to these hardships. Davidson and Sitek believe that co-living is a viable option for single parents, with Sitek praising its combination of 'financial, practical and emotional benefits'. When it works, shared living can reshape our understanding of what it means to be a family, and to have a home. Bourke agrees, saying 'out of crisis often comes resilience'. 'The co-housing model, whether it's for financial, environmental, cultural or kinship reasons, can be a new way of living. Many of us are surviving under extreme circumstances, but we are finding interesting ways to make it work as best as possible.'
