Sheds

Some of my earliest memories are of sitting in my dad's shed watching him craft something together from wood or metal. This was a place where there was always something interesting to watch, a secret place, I even had a toy box in a corner.

His bench was always covered with jars of nails, bolts, bits n pieces plus wood and metal shavings. I remember one day when he was out, I decided to put everything in order, as only a little girl could. I swept up the mess, then tidied and rearranged everything on the bench. To make the transformation complete, I found an old jar, picked some of mum's flowers and put it in the middle of his blokey bench. I can't remember what his reaction was, but I hope it made him smile.


On my wanderings around my neighborhood I came across these old sheds, that unfortunately will not be around for much longer. As younger people move into the area, they are pulled down to make way for a more sterile manicured look. I can understand if they are no longer safe, but all I see are constructions being built with no style, charm or character, which makes me sad, even my dad's old timber shed was replaced with an ugly metal one.

This shed will be gone in the new year, I just love it's shabbyness.

My dad's been gone three years now, but his bench and all his bit's n pieces are still there, just how he left them. A few weeks ago I cleaned his bench and tidied up for him, arranging everything neatly.