Our shed has, once more, defied any kind of normal conventions.
We have, over the last few months, taken a lot of stuff out of the shed and disposed of it. I sat for quite some time dismantling a gas barbeque which, had it been used, would have probably killed us in a fiery death explosion. That has gone to the tip. The plastic garden furniture has gone to the tip though curiously not the top of the old table. Countless other things, collections of manky wood, dead birds and general detritus have gone to the tip.
The shed has never been so empty.
I moved the bins back into the shed, where they have lived for quite some time. There was, even before our trips to the tip, room for the bins. Today there was barely room.
And yet the shed is emptier than it has ever been.
It’s like one of those puzzles where you have a shape that nine other shapes fit into, and the challenge is to reposition those shapes so that a tenth piece can fit. You look at it and your brain doesn’t understand how something with a fixed size can accommodate more things. Of course, it’s all down to reducing the spaces between the shapes. It’s a simple concept. Doesn’t mean it’s a simple solution though. My parents had a puzzle made of animals and you had to try and fit the mouse in amongst the other animals.
That mouse has been forever lonely.
The shed was like that. I spent ages trying to get everything to fit, and fit in a way that mother, half-blind and religiously recycling, can get to the bins without incident. Nothing on the left which remains unseen and threatens to trip her up or injure her. I finally did it, but it took a lot out of me.
And put some stuff onto me as well.
I tried to play it cool.
Honestly, I did.
The roof of our shed is buggered. It’s a waiting game, really. It’s going to go. It’s just a matter of when. The wood is so rotten it’s practically wood particles just held together by sheer willpower.
Lots and lots of cobwebs.
I touched one today, and dislodged the entire contents down the back of my t-shirt.
I did not enjoy it.
In the slightest.
The webs, for there are many, are filled with what I think is bits from the fir tree that overgrows the shed. Or it might be particles of wood. Or it might be spider spawn. I don’t know. But it’s everywhere.
Including down the back of my t-shirt.
I have never removed an article of clothing so quickly in my life.
Not that I knew what to do when I’d done it because the lovely humid weather had ensured that the aforementioned dust/tree bits/spider zygotes adhered to my back. I tried to “towel” them off as best as possible, whilst trying not to knock further particulate matter from the ceiling.
Then I got some in my hair.
Then I saw something large and black scurry across my shoulder.
Then I managed to sort out the rest of the shed in super quick time.
I’m not fearful of spiders or anything like that. It’s more the fact that I couldn’t really dislodge what I had become one with. I was stuck with it. And yet it was very quick to be dislodged from the place where it started from. It didn’t seem fair.
The fact that it brought a perceived creepy crawly with it as well didn’t help matters.
And mum will never know the suffering I endured just so she could put a toilet roll tube in the green bin in relative safety…