He had led a mostly itinerant life up to that point, using his skills as a viticulturist to set up one vineyard before moving on to the next.

He and Anne had decided to settle in Canberra because their three children needed a base, and Ewan had managed to get a few shifts as a chef at a local hotel. It wasn't long before his boss found out that he used to run pubs and asked for his help sorting out a clash with the cleaning staff.

Soon, she was asking him to take on a higher role, then another, until three months after starting as a casual, here he was, an in-house manager staring at the biggest pay cheque of his life.

"I love this job," he told her, "but the 70-80 hours a week are taking a big toll."

His mildly autistic son Regan was struggling at school, and with Anne facing her own health problems and Ewan getting home after 1am some days, the family was struggling. As he drove to work one morning, trying to figure out a way to make it work, he realised he couldn't.

"My son is suffering, he needs me at home, and I can't put in these hours," he told his boss and then his CentreLink manager. "Is it possible to help me get a job where I can work from 9.30am to 2.30pm so I can look after my family as well as work?"

While they knew it would be tough, Ewan and Anne didn't realise how hard it had become to survive in Canberra on a low income. Excursions with the kids were now out. The free tickets to GWS games at Manuka they had been given were also sitting unused in a drawer. They had gone once, but hated telling the kids they couldn't have a hot dog or bucket of chips like all the other kids around them.

"There have been days when I've had to decide between feeding my son, or driving him to school, because I can't afford the petrol," he said.

They had always had savings, but the rising fuel and electricity bills had eaten into those. When the 13-year-old car began to play up (and they needed that car to get the kids to school) they could stretch no further, and reached out to the Salvation Army for a $1300 no-interest loan.

"It covered the car repairs, a laptop that my son needed for school and a tablet for my daughter's class, and we can manage it. But we'll probably have to do it again," he said.

With their Red Hill public property also facing demolition, they were hopeful a unit closer to their son's special needs classes in Wanniassa might help them cut down the fuel bills and keep a bit more aside each week. The one luxury they had managed to hold on to was the annual south Coast holiday. They had tried hard to protect those funds, and for now, this coming January's trip was safe.

"But I don't know about next year," he said to Anne. "We're just going to have to play it week by week for now, and see how we go."