While I was attending a committee meeting this morning, I left my husband in charge of clearing out our garden shed and, if he had time, dismantle it. How the shed has survived eight years considering it had a rather drunken tilt to it when we moved in, is utterly beyond me. It has survived countless storms which destroyed our fence (on several occasions!), complete neglect and latterly as a wrestling ring for cat fights.
Walking through to the back of the house, I was left astounded by how different the garden looked. There was so much more light in the garden! I also noticed for the first time that the back wall which separates our garden from the alleyway isn’t very high. This meant the inquisition of small children had easier views and a constant stream of endlessly repeated questions hounded us the entire time we were working.
My husband reappeared from getting rid of a load of wood at the tip and together we decided the best course of action was to remove the roof of our neighbour’s shed first. Lifting off the roof would have been child’s play if we were both the same height. As it was, the back of the roof was lifted a clear foot and a half higher than the front where I was reaching on tiptoes to lift it. Needless to say, the two sections of the roof separated and half came crashing down. Nursing a bruised hand, we lugged the roof to our garden and I sent my husband back off to the tip with another load of wood.
Armed with an adjustable spanner and a wildly naiive assumption that this would be quick, I began. There were four bolts holding the sides together. However, these were rusted and the nuts wouldn’t turn very easily. An added difficulty was how close the bolt was to the side of the shed, meaning the spanner didn’t have enough space to do more than a quarter turn. By the time my husband had reappeared, I have just about managed to get seven done. But the sides wouldn’t come apart.
Calling Rachel to help us, she appeared with a selection of other tools and set to armed with a claw hammer and a chisel. Quickly, she identified the places it was stuck and loosened the sides. Finally, I thought! We were almost there!
Except we weren’t. That last bolt refused to budge, even with Rachel holding the bolt in place and my husband using the spanner on the bolt. Eventually, Rachel got a small saw and removed the head of the bolt. That did the trick but it means we have to get a replacement. The final tricky bit was to separate each side so they could be lifted from the base and moved into our garden. The only way we managed to do this was to use ‘The Persuader’ AKA a chisel. I love Rachel’s name for this and will now forever call chisels ‘The Persuader’!
With all four sides and the floor carefully hauled into the garden, we put them against the back wall and fence so I can start the repairs and painting tomorrow. That’s assuming we have another dry day which seems unlikely…
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