wish I had a shed. A place at the bottom of the garden, a
Difficult though, to have a shed, when you live in a second
floor flat. There is no room on the veranda. It is feasible
that I could build one out there, a modest one, but I’d
have to find somewhere else for the plant pots, the barbeque
and the trampoline.
Often when I visit my friend David in Dunoon, we sit in his
shed. For no reason other than it is a good place to sit.
His wife is bemused by this. We can see her looking out the
back window - but we refuse to be intimidated. We stay in
the shed. Not all day, just long enough to set up questions
in her mind..
A proper shed will smell of wood and dust and contain all
sorts of interesting garbage: boxes of stuff; bits of bicycle;
tools; golf clubs; cobwebs; comics; beer; paint pots, Haynes
manuals and a tin full of miscellaneous screws and nails.
The average shed is a place where the average woman would
not want to be for very long. That’s one reason why
men like them.
Another is this: the noun shed is derived from the noun shade.
Men understand this and value the respite that both things
give us. That’s not to say that we dislike women or
sunshine – it is just that we like going into a shed.
In there, we feel child-like, removed and cocooned. It is
a temporary time machine, a me-time machine.
My friend Maureen has a shed, but for her it is a storage
space. For David, it is a place.
Stepping out onto a veranda is not nearly as good as going
into a shed. I wish I had a shed.