I’ve always had a fondness for sheds. I remember as a child exploring the shed at the bottom of my Grandad’s garden in Bury, and smelling that wonderful sweet smell of cut grass and the scent of the wood.
The shed was a source of fascination to me, I would watch Grandad take the old fashioned mower out, then gently, methodically, push it up and down, creating those lovely satisfying stripes. Full of brightly coloured deckchairs and my beloved beach bucket and spade, to me sheds stood for good things!
And so they still do. Sheds say ‘spring and summer are here, now get outside!’
After the first few weeks of having my plot and trudging back and forth with my tools, I decided I really needed a ‘home’, a place to store my equipment, shelter when the heavens opened, and most importantly where I could make a cuppa.
I hankered after a wooden shed, that smell always taking right back to glorious summer days picking buttercups in my Grandad’s garden. But, funds were tight and wood is expensive, so I opted for a metal one instead.
I purchased it last autumn thinking it would be up in time for winter, but sadly it stayed in its box taking up the conservatory and much-needed clothes drying space.
Until last weekend that is. Upon hearing that the weather might be ‘reasonable’, my partner Adam and I made a snap decision: Saturday was Shed Day. Adam’s Dad worked wonders with the foundations (eight breeze blocks) while on the Sunday the structure went up. They both worked very hard, and thoroughly deserved their beer and pasty break!
It was like Christmas all over again when I stepped inside. As I excitedly opened the doors I felt I could immediately start ‘plotting’. Sometimes you just can’t focus until a particular project is completed, and thanks to Adam and his Dad I can spring forward with the growing season – and most importantly, they will be pleased that I have finally stopped my nagging!