My Story

From Quakes to Clay and Everything In Between

What an adventure the past 15 years have been for my husband and me!

Back in 2010, we were living in Christchurch when the city was rocked by a devastating 6.8 earthquake. What followed were two years of aftershocks and significant quakes that shook not only buildings but also our sense of safety. It wasn’t until September 2011 that we could finally get our home repaired—and just two months later, in November, we moved back in, grateful to return to our space, now rebuilt from the rubble.

But fate had other plans.

On December 22nd, 2011, yet another major quake hit. While the damage wasn’t as severe this time, emotionally it was enough. We looked at each other and said, “That’s it—we’re moving!”

Fast forward to May 2013: we found ourselves the proud owners of a classic Kiwi quarter-acre paradise—complete with a massive shed that made my husband beam like a kid at Christmas. It took up a full quarter of the section, leaving just enough room for a house and two garden areas. Bliss for him, bliss for me!

Weekends were spent transforming the land—clearing, planting, planning. After much searching, we found the perfect company to build our home: Genius Homes, known for their transportable builds. Unlike other companies quoting year-long wait times and sky-high budgets, Genius Homes could do it in seven weeks—and under budget too! We even got to add a few extras. Why not?

Everything was going beautifully… until just before Christmas.

We got a call: new regulations from 2013 required land testing for contaminants. Although our section had already passed a HAIL test back in 2005 and was listed on our LIM report, it was marked as partially complete—triggering the need for a fresh soil test. Surprise! That would cost $4,500. Merry Christmas indeed.

Then came the New Year and with it—bad news.

The soil results showed elevated levels of arsenic and lead. I was stunned. Where on earth had this come from? After some digging (pun intended), we learned that in the early 1900s, arsenated lead was commonly used to spray fruit trees for codling moth control. Yep—good old-fashioned poison, right in the garden.

Here’s the kicker: Environment Canterbury had recently lowered their acceptable contaminant thresholds—arsenic had dropped from 30 to 20. Our property sat between 20 and 30, meaning we now had a problem we technically didn’t have before.

We had to hire an environmental consultant who basically told us, “The soil is likely fine—if the rules hadn’t changed.”

So, we ripped up our brand-new garden (heartbreaking), boxed the plants up, and watched 280 cubic meters of soil get removed right down to the clay. Then, a 300mm clay cap was laid. Every bit of new soil that came in had to be tested before it could touch the garden or lawn.

After all that—$15,000 later—the local council never once stepped foot on the property. I even rang to ask if they’d come inspect the work. Their response? “No need. The report is enough.”

The whole venture cost us $45,000—which, believe it or not, is considered cheap for this kind of remediation. And where did all that contaminated soil end up? You’re going to love this… Ferrymead Soccer Field! Yep, it was used to level out the field. “Say what?!” Apparently, it’s deemed perfectly fine for sport and recreation—because no one’s on it 24/7. Honestly, you couldn’t make it up!

So why am I telling this story?

Because we’re not the only ones. Others have been caught out by hidden soil contamination and unclear LIM reports. It’s a cautionary tale for anyone buying land—ask the right questions and dig deeper (literally). Atleast now according to the council our section is clean!

And please, be careful with so-called “free soil” or even what you buy from landscaping suppliers. You don’t always know where it's been.

Now, back to the house: once our section was finally cleared, our Genius Home—which had been proudly displayed on a hill like a billboard—was trucked in and placed perfectly on-site. All that was left was attaching the fire flue. Done!

From earthquakes to contamination, the journey took us eight full years of problem-solving. But we made it. Together.

And so began our new chapter: me, the designer; Dave, the builder. We started fresh—rebuilding our gardens from scratch with clean soil and a vision of self-sufficiency. Our goal was simple: to step outside and gather what we needed—fruit, veg, herbs—preserve the surplus, and share the rest. Along the way, we foraged the countryside, met like-minded folks, and embraced the rhythm of slow, seasonal living.

Amidst all this, I had long been dealing with persistent skin reactions to commercial soaps and products. I craved something gentler—something I could trust on my skin. That’s when I began crafting my own soaps and body products, using natural ingredients and incorporating plants I could grow, forage, or at least recognise on a label.

Out of that lifestyle, my soapmaking journey took root. What began as a humble homestead skill turned into a full-blown passion—one I now pour into every bar I make and every class I teach. It’s what led me to write my book and share these skills with others who long for a more natural, intentional way of living.

Right now, Urban Homesteader is focused on that core passion: natural soapmaking. But this site is just the beginning. In time, I’ll be expanding it to include the other skills that shape our lifestyle—gardening, preserving, foraging, and more.

One step at a time, just like how we built it all in the first place.

Dee Butcher