Yes I know, I know… I ’m obsessed with sheds. Mine in particular at the moment, but I’m more than happy to view anyone else’s should I be kindly invited to. I could do with a day out.
(Mmm… that conjures up visions of chilled Moet Chandon, posh floaty frocks and balmy summer evenings in other people’s gardens whilst being taken on a personal tour of ‘The Shed’ by said owner)
Perhaps I could set up a local Shed Enthusiasts Group?
Anyway, from the outside, my shed looks relatively compact and bijou and I bet you think I’m going to say it’s like the Tardis inside- well I'm afraid not. It’s compact and bijou inside too. You could JUST about swing a cat in it. (RSPCA please note - no cats were harmed in this experiment)
I’ve had to have a bit of a clear out (orders from himself) as things have been getting quite desperate on a number of levels.
Along with all my sewing bits and bobs, the detritus that I hoard in the attic has somehow spilt over into the shed and I’ve no idea how it happened. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it)
It was getting so ghastly that I had to step over things to get into the building.
I’ve failed miserably to keep it looking fairly decent.
Yesterday I meant business.
Out came the super-charged, hospital grade vacuum cleaner with its plethora of attachments. Goodness knows what the neighbours think – I regularly sneak down the garden with it and it’s not an easy thing to disguise at the best of times. If I did perchance manage somehow to camouflage it, the 200 decibel jet plane roar would sadly give it away.
I just knew that when I moved everything BACK into the attic I’d find a few over wintering visitors… the ones with eight legs.
Now I’m relatively good with these little creatures - anything up to the size of a 2 pence piece I can cope with, but the ones that are as big as your hand-well that’s a different matter, hence the hoover.
One or two stifled screams did escape and could possibly have been heard above the machine's deafening noise, but I’m pretty sure no one noticed.
So now all is peaceful, ordered and more importantly -clear of our hairy-legged friends.
I can sit at my diminutive sewing table in the knowledge that nothing will sneak up my trouser leg.
so it was with great contentment that I settled down to work in a pristine shed, taking with me my ‘Shed Essentials’-the proverbial scalding hot cup of tea, diary, best glasses,(not champagne ones) two phones and a muesli bar I chanced upon whilst having the spring clean. (It was a month out of date, but as we speak I am not experiencing any adverse effects)