Today gave the kind of weather that leaves me desperate for more. Barely a breeze and Spring sunshine beating down. I could have laid there, batting away children and drinking tea (well actually, I couldn’t but I could have tried to). Instead I buzzed about endeavouring to clean up some of The Shed.

Yes. It earns its capital letters from the foreboding it fills me with when I even begin to consider the state of it. We could do so much with that space! Stick my small boat in it (I have not looked at that site for so long, and have just now realised I let the domain name expire godDAMNit!), stick a car in it, make it into an undercover and away-from-the-house playspace… the list goes on.

However. It holds a fearsome array of crap. Of things we may NEVER use/need/ponder again – things like guitar leads, guitar amps, microphone leads, old wildly outdated stereos, masts, lifejackets, dead digital cameras, dead phones, a dryer, a chest of drawers, a mast or two, tools, old large wicker baskets, the recently acquired laminex table and four chairs and two side sets of drawers and AAAAAAAGH. It’s impenetrable. It reflects the internal workings of my skull.

Today I just tried to tidy the bits around the door. Mostly mine. Should I throw my guitar leads away? Should I sell/donate my bass amp? When the hell will I ever use them again? But maybe…maybe they are the kind of things that I would have BEGGED my parents to keep? Maybe Small Z of the future might be interested? And thus the stacks of crud grow ever higher.

Meanwhile, the Smalls had bubble wrap and a bowl of water to play with. They were still on a high from yesterday when they discovered ELEVEN EGGS from Feathery in a distant corner of the garden. ELEVEN days worth of eggs we had known NOTHING about. Sponge cakes and fritattas are on the horizon…

Hanging with bubble wrap as I have a go at cleaning some of the shed. The weather is just sublimely beautiful. Am wishing we were away in the caravan...

I put a new lid on the chook home with the help of Small Z and my only power tool. I do not own a drill bit – something that has left me incandescent with fury on more than one occasion. I managed it without one. But I’ve got a date with Bunnings in the morning. Some things just need to targeted for the mental wellbeing of all concerned.


Let your fingers do the talking



1 Comment

  1. Your shed + crap = my basement + crap. My basement is equally hopeless. Eleven eggs, I’m impressed.

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