A man's shed is sacrosanct. He meditates, cogitates, solves his life issues, rests from the outside world, and repairs, renovates and creates.
My man's shed is a marvel of masculinity. His tools are organised into places only he can find, and mostly have been painted with some kind of sticky oily substance to make them last longer. So completely gucky, you have to wash your hands afterwards, or wear gloves. Perhaps that is so I won't want to touch them.
My tools, that I had when I moved up to 'his place' many moons ago, have since been set aside in a box labelled 'Robyn's Tools', but I can't find them!
His tools have been collected from his teen years on, and often there are many more than one of each. There are strange, rusting pieces of metal and wood that have no apparent use, and are kept 'just in case'. There are old rabbit traps, possum cages, cross cut saws, rotting bridles and harness pieces. Any interesting signs and nick nacks from our Harley Davidson life end up nailed on the door that leads to 'the 'bikes'. Other stuff is collected to go up on the wall of our promised barby area, when it arrives.
His idea of heaven recently lay in 'moving his jars of nails, etc, 'from one side of the shed to the other', in a major clean up, which exposed parts of floor we hadn't seen for some time. This stretch of floor is inexorably shrinking as the new projects get going.
He has been hankering after a new compressor, so he 'can blow up the tyre on his wheelbarrow', and after a year has just got one. It's a fabulous four horsepower something or other, and is not nearly as loud as the last one, which could be heard roaring from the house. I am sure that it contributed to his rapidly advancing hearing loss, along with the chainsaw, lawn mower, and footy turned up loud on a Saturday afternoon.
But this weekend, he has repaired a beehive for our girls to expand into, and painted our new pine veranda chairs in fetching stripes, so I musn't complain. Many good things emerge from that shed door, including him..............
Happy Father's Day!
If the world were a logical place, men would ride side saddle.
...Rita Mae Brown