It's strange how your dreams change over the years.
In my teens, apart from the forlorn hope of a brief encounter
with Oliver Reed, my thoughts were mainly centered around
how I could talk my parents into letting me have a horse.
My plea's fell upon stony ground as did my scaled-down request
for a dog instead. Damn and blast.
In my twenties it was a case of "be careful what you wish for"
because I soon found myself saddled with an alcoholic husband
and the responsibilities of parenthood. My guardian angel had
obviously not been paying proper attention during that decade.
Divorce was the buzzword of my thirties and, not being one to learn
from my mistakes, I spent my forties and fifties repeating the
errors of my youth by acquiring a second and even more appalling
husband than the first and, happily, several memorable dogs.
Death did finally "us part" during my sixth decade on this planet
and I have recently discovered that, apart from good health
and world peace, my heart's desire at this moment in
time is - A SHED!
The good thing about a shed fixation is that it's a relatively
simple desire to fulfil and so, earlier this week having first scanned
the small ad's for purveyors of said item, I set off on my quest.
My journey took me into the darkest corners of Great Yarmouth
Docks and, as I drove slowly along the wharves looking for the
address, I began to wonder whether it was only men who get
nicked for kerb crawling. Having double locked the jam jar I
pulled up my collar against the howling east wind and diving
seagulls and entered the premises past razor wire and "Beware of
the Dog" signs - yes Alice dear, it was all a bit like an episode
of The Sweeney.
Having called a timid "hello" a couple of times to no effect
I quickly discovered that a piercing, two fingered whistle
perfected in my youth and still operational today, soon attracted
considerable attention. In most other situations I would have
turned and run as the proprietor turned out to be a huge,
heavily inked, hulk of a man and I was very grateful when we
finally entered "the office" and he sat down as I was getting
quite a crick in my neck trying to look up at him.
I have to say that most of the "artwork" adorning the office walls
was definately not shed related but boys will be boys. The ordering
process itself was surprisingly efficient and not as expensive as I
had imagined, What's more he was offering "free erections" (nobody
dare snigger) which together with free delivery had attracted me
in the first place. The only tricky point was when it was time to
go and because the desk was so sticky with old coffee mug rings
from the last century I literally had to peel away my order
confirmation from the sugary surface beneath.
Mission accomplished, order placed and I'm still alive to tell the
tale. Delivery and much anticipated "erection" scheduled for
ten days' time, so stay tuned for the next exciting chapter of
"Shedding for Beginners"!
My plea's fell upon stony ground as did my scaled-down request
for a dog instead. Damn and blast.
 |
| The boy Oliver before the booze got him. |
In my twenties it was a case of "be careful what you wish for"
because I soon found myself saddled with an alcoholic husband
and the responsibilities of parenthood. My guardian angel had
obviously not been paying proper attention during that decade.
 |
| Mouche & Geordie - two memorable dogs! |
Divorce was the buzzword of my thirties and, not being one to learn
from my mistakes, I spent my forties and fifties repeating the
errors of my youth by acquiring a second and even more appalling
husband than the first and, happily, several memorable dogs.
Death did finally "us part" during my sixth decade on this planet
and I have recently discovered that, apart from good health
and world peace, my heart's desire at this moment in
time is - A SHED!
 |
| A humble abode but soon to me mine own. |
The good thing about a shed fixation is that it's a relatively
simple desire to fulfil and so, earlier this week having first scanned
the small ad's for purveyors of said item, I set off on my quest.
 |
| Great Yarmouth docks (the tourist view) |
My journey took me into the darkest corners of Great Yarmouth
Docks and, as I drove slowly along the wharves looking for the
address, I began to wonder whether it was only men who get
nicked for kerb crawling. Having double locked the jam jar I
pulled up my collar against the howling east wind and diving
seagulls and entered the premises past razor wire and "Beware of
the Dog" signs - yes Alice dear, it was all a bit like an episode
of The Sweeney.
 |
| I kept expecting the Old Bill to shown up at any moment. |
Having called a timid "hello" a couple of times to no effect
I quickly discovered that a piercing, two fingered whistle
perfected in my youth and still operational today, soon attracted
considerable attention. In most other situations I would have
turned and run as the proprietor turned out to be a huge,
heavily inked, hulk of a man and I was very grateful when we
finally entered "the office" and he sat down as I was getting
quite a crick in my neck trying to look up at him.
I have to say that most of the "artwork" adorning the office walls
was definately not shed related but boys will be boys. The ordering
process itself was surprisingly efficient and not as expensive as I
had imagined, What's more he was offering "free erections" (nobody
dare snigger) which together with free delivery had attracted me
in the first place. The only tricky point was when it was time to
go and because the desk was so sticky with old coffee mug rings
from the last century I literally had to peel away my order
confirmation from the sugary surface beneath.
 |
| This is the look I'm aiming for "shabby shed" |
Mission accomplished, order placed and I'm still alive to tell the
tale. Delivery and much anticipated "erection" scheduled for
ten days' time, so stay tuned for the next exciting chapter of
"Shedding for Beginners"!
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