No, my whole interest in houses revolved around them being homes. Years ago, and I'm talking decades here, young journalists at The Canberra Times had to cut their teeth writing for our real estate pages. I didn't mind my stint. We'd have to meet agents at the home of the week and wander through, ultimately writing a pithy 300 words or so to try and sell the place. I used to spend a lot of time standing at the kitchen sink. If there was a view, the house was a winner in my opinion, or if there was a yard with places for children to play, or a window full of light. These things sell a home.

A few years later I was in charge of a liftout we used to run, "Amazing Homes", where we'd do the full sticky beak on award-winning homes we'd track down via builders and architects. We should do more of that now. Who doesn't want to step inside the front door of those homes you covet when you drive past.

But in the past few months my priorities twisted a little. I became a seller. I paid more attention to predictions of price variations, enquired about cuts to rates and stamp duty, dealt with all the repercussions in changes to open houses and auctions. My home had become a business transaction. Throw in a global pandemic for good measure.

What I did like was I have learned these things.

I was on the phone to some insurance company the other night, looking for a good deal on home and contents, and the anonymous woman in Manila, or wherever the call centre was, asked me if I knew my new neighbours. Neighbours are important, she said. Like, I know. I have the best neighbours in the world and that is one of the hardest things about the move. How do I leave this little cul de sac of paradise? Where we've all watched our children grow up, watched elderly neighbours pass away, shared cups of sugar, muffin tins, trailers and secrets. One of the best things about the pandemic is that it forced us all to look inwards. Not to stray too far from home. To find out more about those who lived around us, we may have met them at the park with our dogs or at the shops waiting for a coffee. Community is vital. Be a part of yours.

So many of us have struggled during the past few months. Anxiety and stress levels have increased. Many of us are unsure about where things are headed, even if it seems it's somewhere back close to normal. Or the new normal. I've done most of the move on my own. Most of it. There's been a few dear friends who fixed fences and sanded down sticky doors and rifled through my spices looking at expiry dates. The kids have been fabulous. We've all walked that fine line of emotional attachment and usefulness. But for most of it I've looked at an item and asked myself, does this bring me joy? Don't be afraid to ask yourself that question in all aspects of your life. Struggling working from home? Tell someone. Drinking too much? Tell someone. You're not alone. Even if it's felt as though you are.

This all comes back to your house being a home. Who hasn't fallen back in love with your place of residence in the past few months. We've all been spending money on home renovations, on homewares and our gardens. We like it when the place we love brings us joy. I hope and pray that the buyers of my home stepped one foot inside the front door and thought this is where I want to be at the end of a day. Even if I have spent all day working from the spare room. I hope they thought this is a neighborhood I want to wander through. I hope they thought this will be home.

So much was essential or non-essential during lockdown. Cafes, restaurants, cinemas, post offices, hospitals, the public service. Which side of the line did you fall on? I asked myself that same question every time I went to pack something. Is this clock essential? No. Is this pepper shaker? This single doona? This saucepan? This cookbook? This lamp? The things that were essential were things which I knew I would use in my new pared down life. The pale blue cast iron pot to make soup, the fluffy towels, the vases I wanted to display the flowers I knew I wanted in my new home. That's what it came down to. The things I wanted to be essential in my new life. The past few months have given us all a chance to think about where we want our lives to go. Mine is somewhere different.

See above. And then ask yourself what you've loved most about the past few months. It hasn't been easy. Not by any stretch. But much good has come from it. We've spent more time with the people we love. We've spent more time in places we've grown to love. We've cooked more and spent more time around dinner tables. We've had more opportunity to think about what's important to us.

And that's a fine opportunity indeed.