Emily Writes tried to rekindle some of her grandmother’s Christmas magic for her own kids. She ended up covered in vomit and beanbag stuffing.

After my grandmother died Christmas became quite bleak.

I couldn’t work out how Christmas could happen without her. She always started the family water fight after lunch. She would walk gingerly to the door and the grandkids would line up patiently so she could squirt them with her water gun (she used the same one every year – a weird one in the shape of a finger), and then it was all on.

She would sit back in her chair and watch us scream and run around her house and she’d laugh and laugh.

I don’t believe in heaven or hell or an afterlife. But the concept for dogs of the Rainbow Bridge is one I am fond of. This idea that all dogs – because all dogs are good – cross over the bridge and happily play, free from sore paws and arthritic joints, gave me great comfort after my elderly dog died. The thought of my little old dog suddenly bounding away into a field, jumping like he used to when he was a young pup, made me a little less heartbroken.

I like the idea of a Rainbow Bridge for loved ones. My nanna’s hands wouldn’t hurt anymore and she’d knit in her chair. Babies at her feet, tangled in her yarn. Every day is Christmas there.

And in my make-believe, everyone gets their own best day, just lived over and over and over again.

Maybe it was that hope that I’d reach through the void and feel her presence in some way that inspired me to embark on a ridiculous attempt to recreate her Christmas magic in our home.

One of her Christmas traditions was a special gift for my Uncle Peter, her youngest son.

I don’t know when it started but I remember being little. Nanna would bring out a giant present last. It was always enormous to me. There was a huge buzz of excitement amongst us all – the anticipation was always delicious. As soon as he was handed his present, my uncle would theatrically rip it in half. Polystyrene balls would fly all over the room as we shrieked in delight.

We would all play in the polystyrene balls – throwing them at each other, collecting them in cups sticky from red cordial, shoving them down the backs of our cousins’ togs. And always nanna would clap from her chair. All of her grandchildren – there were at least 12 or so of us then – would gather around her and gently pour polystyrene balls into her white hair. We would kiss her on her paper skin and she would pat us gently with her hand, gnarled with arthritis, and she would whisper in our ears. Years and years later, even after she died, I’d hear “nanna loves you” when I felt overwhelmed.

Every year my Uncle Peter would get the same gift, a 100L bag of polystyrene balls.

My husband’s first time attending my family’s Christmas was an eye-opener for him. At one point as the young kids hiffed balls at each other I looked through the frenzy of white and saw him staring mournfully into his beer – which was now full of polystyrene balls.

My son was one when he had his first Christmas with my extended family. It was wonderful to watch the babies playing in the polystyrene balls. I remember being surprised that my aunty had chosen to do it. My uncle wasn’t there and nanna was dead. But I was glad that my children might know what we all had, when nanna was here with us.

We had another baby a year later and travel was just too hard so my second child hasn’t had a big family Christmas. Maybe that’s why I said this Christmas to my husband: “I want to do the polystyrene balls.” He looked at me with his usual “Emily this is a bad idea but I’m not going to be able to convince you otherwise” look.

That weekend I opened the closet and found a 100L bag of polystyrene balls my husband had bought.

I began the task of wrapping them on Christmas morning while the kids were occupied with their presents and it went something like this:

FUCK OMG WHY FUCK WHAT WHY IS FUCK THERE ARE BALLS EVERYWHERE HOW DID SHE DO THIS WITHOUT FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

My husband came down and stared at the scene. “Er, why didn’t you keep them in the bag?” he quite reasonably asked. “NANNA DIDN’T DO THAT!” I hissed at him. “When you open the bag the balls just naturally go everywhere. I don’t know how she did it!” I yelled at nobody in particular.

The balls kept popping out the sides of the wrapping. They stuck to the Sellotape and when I put them down ready to be pulled apart a new lot of balls sprung free.

I was sweaty and irritated but pleased that at the very least it was almost polystyrene ball time. As a compromise, my husband had insisted the balls be confined to one room. At the time I’d thought this was an over-reaction.

The kids came in and stared at the misshapen present on the floor.

“OK KIDS!” I said with an almost hysterical forced cheeriness, “PULL IT APART OK?”

My youngest stared blankly at me. My oldest prodded the present gingerly.

“Like this!” I said as I ripped it apart. The balls rained down on my oldest. He screamed in delight.

He began hurling the balls around the room.

My youngest just screamed.

Then vomited.

Into the balls.

He vomited onto me and the balls stuck onto the vomit which stuck on to me.

My oldest grabbed the vomit balls and hurled them at me.

“STOP!” I screamed, as vomit balls stuck to my face.

As I opened my mouth a load of vomit balls landed on my lips and tongue.

The baby screamed as I fished vomit balls out of his mouth.

My oldest laughed hysterically as he lay in the vomit balls and made vomit ball angels.

I spat vomit balls out and handed my vomit ball-covered baby to my husband who was doing a face like:

I said this was a bad idea Emily but I’m not going to say that out loud because you can tell by my face that I’m thinking it.

I tried to get my oldest to stop playing with the vomit balls but he was in heaven. A disgusting vomit ball heaven.

I gagged as I slipped in the vomit and fell forward into the vomit.

How was there so much vomit?

Why did I do this?

My youngest was put in the shower after being stripped of vomit balls.

I tried to load the balls into a tub and with every heave I heaved.

My oldest screeched with laughter and tipped more vomit balls into my hair.

Eventually I managed to convince him a great game would be to stop putting vomit balls on me and instead to put them in the bath tub. It took two hours to get all of the balls into the tub.

My son ran a steady commentary during our shower to rid us of vomit. “WHAT ABOUT WHEN THERE WAS VOMITED MAMA WHAT ABOUT HOW FUNNY WHEN THERE WAS VOMITED ON THEM BALLS MAMA WHAT ABOUT HOW IT WAS IN OUR HAIRS MAMA THAT WAS THE BEST FUN EVER I HAD MAMA WITH THE VOMITED MAMA WHAT ABOUT HOW FUNNY WAS THEM VOMITED MAMA MAMA MAMA WHAT ABOUT THEM VOMITED MAMA WHAT ABOUT VOMIT ON THE SNOW”

As I stepped out of the shower I found more balls. In my room as I dressed I found balls. In my son’s drawer I found balls.

Why did I try to do this? How was it ever done before? Nanna clearly had a way of doing this that worked because nobody ever vomited and I never remember the balls being cleaned up.

And then I realised: the balls were cleaned up after we were asleep. I mean yes, that doesn’t explain the vomit. I’ll put that aside for now and chalk it down to I DON’T FUCKING KNOW.

But how was it that in the evening, exhausted from a day of approximately 20,000 children, a backyard full of them sleeping in tents, my nanna and her seven adult children cleaned it all up? Did it take them long, this sustained effort to keep magic alive for us kids? All I know is that the balls were put away, I guess for the next year, and we were none the wiser.

I climbed into bed that night exhausted. As I lay down on my pillow I picked up a lone polystyrene ball.

I held it in my fingers and thought of my nanna in her chair. Where every day is Christmas. Her white hair hiding polystyrene balls.

I closed my eyes and kissed her on her paper skin and I imagined her hand, gnarled with arthritis, patting me gently.

When a visitor came the day after Christmas my son said:

“Mama made pretend snow and there was vomit in it and it was the best day of all of EVER!”

As I laughed at the expression on my friend’s face, I saw a flash of my nanna in her chair. Hand patting on her knee as she threw her head back laughing.

Tears stung my eyes and I turned away to make coffee.

I heard my grandmother’s voice.

“Nanna loves you.”

And I silently thanked all of the nannas and the parents who create magic for their children – then clean it up afterward. One day they’ll see it.

In October we invited you to lob your Auckland housing crisis questions at AUT professor John Tookey, an expert on the subject. Here he responds to a selection of the many questions he received, and explains why – spoiler alert – there are no easy answers.

John Tookey is a Professor of Construction Management at AUT, where he specialises in supply chain management. He is one of several lead researchers working on the Government’s National Science Challenge 11: ‘Building Better Homes, Towns and Cities’.

First published on November 2, 2016.

I’ve always assumed that the only way Auckland will ever catch up with the housing crisis is by building many residential tower developments based on standard templates, either as full or mixed-ownership social housing, or as affordable properties restricted only to first-home owner-occupiers or public servant ‘key workers’ as in London. We seem to be able to do the ‘expensive apartment’ approach, but does NZ have the expertise and capacity to build the ‘affordable apartment’ approach both cheaply and to the required standards? – Ethan Tucker

We have the expertise, no question. NZ produces some of the best engineers on the planet, employable anywhere. We are known for it. Pretty cool, right? However if you want to make money in the property game you try to build the biggest, sexiest place you can on the smallest space possible. Do it quickly and sell it on before the market or investors go away. Large multi-unit properties imply large upfront investments and maybe slow returns – hence higher risk for the developers. As a consequence you do not see huge numbers of high density developments of apartments etc. How will that change? Potentially getting council or government to ‘front end’ the risk by investing in land development of real estate, or they could commission these developments themselves, through the housing association model used in the UK.

Do you think the Supercity concept has added to the crisis ? Would it make more sense to leave Manukau, Waitakere and the North Shore to develop their own CBDs and grow in the natural way, Manukau expending south, the North Shore growing north etc, considering the current infrastructure? Auckland central would seem to be the only part of Auckland growing up at this stage. – Monica Cozma

Honestly – not much. The smaller councils had less funding to expedite development anyway. Arguably delays occurred as councils aligned their regulations and expectations prior to the supercity. But other than that, none of the previous councils had any more nerve to make things happen ahead of the market.

Is it the housing pricing that we need to adjust, or the NZ salary? The average cost of a flat in London is something like 46x the average salary; in Auckland, the average price of a flat/apartment, is less than half that ratio. So is housing in our major city too expensive, or are our salaries too low, or is it both? – Mathew Coleman

Our prices are inflated by investor behaviour and demand for central suburbs. Too expensive? Hell yes. Salaries too low? Arguably yes but in line with the country as a whole.

London and Auckland do not equate. London is a destination city and is seen as a go-to hub for many of the great and good of Europe, The Americas and the Middle East. Elites ‘base themselves’ in London. Hence the astronomic prices of central city districts because the inhabitants do not belong to the ‘average’ category you allude to. London is also a city with a vast infrastructure of rail and underground that allows long distance commuting. By comparison Auckland is totally wedded to the car as the main method of getting around. In the absence of serious public transport, Auckland is constrained to having massive pressure on the central city suburbs that allow folks to commute to work.

Would government intervention around building companies assist? House building in Auckland becomes a licensed thing and only two or three companies get the tender, forcing them to them to become bigger, better resourced building companies? Or just go the whole way and set up a couple of government-controlled building companies and let them do everything, with a government guarantee against the work? – Ben Jackson

Government and council intervention would help, yes. They can force outcomes through contract terms, conditions and the profit motive – “We want x houses by y date at z cost” – just like they did after the second world war to house returning troops. At the moment most construction companies are not investing in speculative (i.e. “give it a go bro – she’ll be right”) construction because they expect the market to take a downturn, soon. Housing gets built when there is a definite commitment of funds from a client to the finished product. Every house in every development you see is already purchased and fully funded. Depressing eh? The only way a surplus can occur and thus prices be affected is through government and/or council commissioning production ahead of the normal market.

If the real estate companies are the only ones profiting (maybe banks too), how can the general public be confident that they haven’t created this crisis for personal gain? – Tahi Piripi

You can’t. But actually it is property investors (mainly baby boomers) that are the beneficiaries of this bubble. The obvious profiteers from the bubble – real estate agents primarily – are without doubt less than popular for good reason. Apparently there is a code of conduct and ethics for these folks… yes really. I laughed too. However in reality the principle personal gains are usually amongst our friends and families. When we visit the ‘bank of mum and dad’ they got that residual wealth from somewhere. But rest assured, asset bubbles like this do not come from pre-planned ‘created crises’. They occur from investor herd behaviours – like with the dot.com bubble of the 2000s and the tulip bubble of the 1700s.

What sort of timeframe do you envisage when you predict an incremental decrease in values? – Nick Mulvey

Can’t say. More likely you will see ‘stagflation’ in which the prices stay the same for a long period of time while inflation eats into house values. It happened (and continues to happen) in Japan and more recently in the UK post the global financial crisis of 2008. After a number of years when house prices and values look more realistic then the market starts to move again.

Do you think there are now too many people (government included) with an interest in keeping house prices high at any cost to allow a correction back to even semi affordable levels? In other words, is it now a too big to fail situation? – Zac Fairhall

I don’t think the market is too big to fail – bubbles always burst. Period. Nor do I think it is a plan to retain high values deliberately. What I can say is this: if a government really stepped up and made a concerted effort to improve affordability, it would imply that it had acted in such a way as to reduce the fundamental value of the largest asset that most people own. i.e. their house. Does that sound like a policy that would earn a government further employment after the next election? Probably not. I guess turkeys voting for Xmas is the equivalent.

Do monopolies in the supply chain drive the cost of building in NZ? Have current property taxation laws added fuel to the current predicament? Should the use of more sustainable materials sourced locally be incorporated into the building code? – Arash Barzin

Honestly the evidence I see is that the cost of materials do not affect the price of housing. There is a fundamental conflation of cost, price and value in the minds of most people. Logic is this – we increase the total numbers of dwellings in NZ by about 1.5% annually. However the value of property is based on the residual value of housing in an area rather than the cost of building new. For example, most houses in Devonport are 50+ years old. How much did they cost to build? How much are they worth now? Therefore is the cost of materials significant in value? No. Put it another way, Let’s say it costs $2m in materials to build a 200sqm home in Manurewa. How much can you sell it for? Alternatively if the same house was built for the same money in Remuera, how much would it be worth? Materials costs do not affect price or value.

Taxation can affect things in terms of the capital gains game that investors play. In terms of locally sourced materials and their sustainability, well honestly our market is so small as to be unsustainable for manufacturers of all sorts of products.

Would you link the leaky homes crisis to the current crisis? Did it put off building and destroy faith in new housing to the extent that everyone was stuck cashing in on older homes which were ‘safe’, in turn leading to a lack of new projects and decent companies? – Ben Jackson

Not so much. Only issue is the drag effect of increased building consent costs to meet Building Act regulations. Otherwise we make better houses now than ever before.

Regarding houses selling for well over their RV: does anyone have the predictive ability to advise first home buyers “wait awhile til things become less crazy” vs “jump on as soon as you can before things get even crazier”? – Rebecca Gray

Anyone who says that they can tell you that with either high degrees of certainly or confidence is talking complete BS. The economic system is so complex and sits in a global economy with all sorts of nuanced balances between fundamental indicators that it makes prediction impossible.

There are some fantastic places that already have the utilities to go up rather than build out (like the corner of Great North Road and what I believe is Titirangi Road, in New Lynn). Why aren’t there any initiatives outside of the city itself, like in a SHA, to tender a more dense style of living outside of zoning? – John Donald

It comes down to risk versus reward. High density housing construction equates to higher attributed costs (materials, scaffolding, time, labour) with lower margins. We talk about affordable housing but affordable to whom? Builders have to spend more money and bear more risk in order to deliver more affordable homes. Attractive? Not so much. Much more profit in building low density, single storey homes with a guaranteed return based on guaranteed funding.

Is the best way to simply address the issue of housing affordability and rampant market hyperinflation to have an effective and properly worked out capital gains tax? – Matthew Lane

No. This is a complex issue with multiple elements: Releasing more land. Forcing development. Disincentivising property investment. Incentivising the divestment of property holdings. Council / government investment in new development ahead of the market, and more. One dimensional solutions do not work.

Why doesn’t the government tax the property speculators to such an extent that they move out of the property market thus making more homes available to first home buyers? – Lawrence Townsend

Bloody good question. The problem is fundamentally that of property investment. But there are other issues that need to be addressed as a coherent portfolio of policies to deal with a complex problem.

What do you think of the Labour Party’s housing plan? – Jean Jeanie

Too little, too late. Sorry. Facts do not care about feelings. We are where we are now. Policy has to reflect the possible and affordable at the point of implementation. My sense is that if the economy hit the skids such that Labour would be elected, then any of the policy ideas would not be affordable or credible at that point of time. I would expect ‘mission creep‘ at that point.