In the late 60’s, the New Zealand Ministry of Works was putting the first section of the Wellington Urban Motorway through Thorndon, the colonial residential suburb which adjoins the quarter where high rise buildings house the main government departments. Many of  the civil servants who inhabited these buildings liked to include a lunchtime constitutional in their daily routine, and the occasional episodes of demolition and construction were highlights of the unfolding show.

One day in Hawkestone Street. a substantial crowd of office workers gathered around noon to supervise the unloading of a medium sized bulldozer from its low loader. When this was accomplished, the large Maori driver, who looked as if he would not be a stranger to aggravation, domestic or civil, carefully positioned the machine athwart the footpath in front of a neat looking cottage with a rose-bordered path leading up to its front door, set his hard hat at a jaunty angle, took his seat, and to the admiration of all his audience, roared straight up the path, until the machine was buried in the wreckage of the house, right up to the controls, whereupon he turned off the engine, stood up, doffed his hard hat, and announced:

“Mum, I’m Home.”

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