Thursday, May 24, 2007
My Back Yard Shed
I have always wanted a back yard shed. There is something inherently masculine about the shed. A place of refuge from the fast pace of everyday life. Somewhere to go to cut things up and put holes in things. A place to build something. A place to hang shiny tools on pegboard with tool outline shapes to show where things go. A place to shed blood and sweat in the quest for the perfect dovetail joint. A place to strip a motor and then forget where all the pieces go. Of course with my lack of skills it could also be a place to lose a finger or two in an attempt to master the drop saw but we won’t dwell on that.
My shed would be an out of bounds area. The fact that I don’t know how to build things or cut straight lines with a hand saw would be hidden from the world. Half finished projects would be safe from prying and judgmental eyes. There would be no other secrets here but these.
In the Utopian parallel universe where money concerns do not exist the shed is quite large. There is room for a large screen TV, a comfortable chair or two and a bar fridge. When you visit the shed dear reader you come empty handed. There is always a full beer fridge.
There is also space for the motorcycles. Did I mention there will be motorcycles? Probably three or four. A couple of road bikes and a couple of dirt bikes. These will be ridden on days when there is no football to watch in the shed and I feel no need to tinker with power tools. This assumes of course that I have not removed the appendages required to ride motorcycles with said power tools.
The shed will be the place where potential suitors for my daughters will be interviewed prior to being sent on their first date. There will need to be various items of terror contained within the walls of the shed to ensure the safe return of my princesses. Perhaps a vicious dog or two, shotguns are of course illegal in Australian sheds.
Will I ever have the backyard shed? Probably not. Other things have priority now and other things will come along to take their place. That’s OK, it’s nice to dream.
“You can’t coach that”
