Shed Down!

This weekend is the first anniversary of Shed Down at the allotment.

Sunday 2 February 2020

For a minute or so, I sat on the upturned water tank, sitting being something this fidget-arse does rarely. I glanced up at the new roof I’d just put on the shed, then down through the open door at the new floor I’d almost finished laying. A roof and a floor to replace rotten and sagging predecessors. I shivered with satisfaction; all I needed to do now was somehow strengthen the walls before the arrival of Storm Improbable Name.

Friday 7 February 2020

Although I made a couple more visits to the allotment during the week, I never did get round to reinforcing those walls. Oh well, too late now. With a full weekend’s worth of freelance work ahead, to the tightest of deadlines, it would be Monday before I’d be able to do anything about it.

Just before lunch, the allotment manager emailed all of us plotholders:

Hi all,

make sure your sheds etc. are secure – a storm is approaching

cheers

Monday 10 February 2020

Got the weekend’s work done but it took its toll. I couldn’t even muster a visit to the beloved allotment. In the evening, I got an email from the allotment manager:

Hi Joe,

I’m sorry to tell you but your shed blew down yesterday

cheers

I can’t say I was surprised but I did feel kind of upset when I saw the photos in the email. Guess I was more attached to this assembly of wood, screws and paving slabs than I realised. And now there it was, reduced to a scattered litter-jumble of wood panels and gardening paraphernalia.

Tuesday 11 February 2020

As I walked through Hanwell in the morning, the damage wreaked by the roaring windy blows of Storm Improbable Name (was it Dennis?) was still evident – garden fences, some over-leaning, some collapsed, and large branches part-obstructing the path on High Lane.

When I got to the allotment I found it strewn with debris all round – plastic bags, buckets and bits of wood everywhere. Ours appeared to be the only Shed Down, though as I approached it I could see that someone had transformed it into a wooden tent, with all the scattered contents collected up and placed neatly inside. It turned out B&B from the next plot along had very kindly made all safe.

Not ashamed to say there was a tear in the eye. Well, two. One for the thoughtfulness of our lovely plot neighbours, and one for the shed that was well and truly down as I stared at the incongruity of what was so familiar now distorted into all the wrong places.

And place is what it’s all about. The shed was the focus of the plot where we love spending time; weeding and sowing, chatting and watching wildlife. Then, there’s the shed itself, that we had built, maintained and repaired (but not very well, evidently).

Saturday 15 February 2020

At the allotment with my partner. We walked around the wooden tent pile that was once the shed and its innards, wondering where to start. ‘Let’s not buy a new one,’ she said. ‘Let’s rebuild this one.’

Sunday 16 February 2020

We wasted no time in planning the rebuild, and I swear to you I remember thinking that if Shed Down was to be the worst thing to happen this year, we should get it sorted as soon as we could.

Sketches were drawn, measurements taken, and gravel, sand and roofing bought. Excitement and hope kindled.

Friday 13 March 2020

Fulham v Brentford was called off. With the pandemic looming, we’d already decided not to go, even though we’d bought tickets. Too risky. It was starting to look like Shed Down wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen this year.

Friday 20 March 2020

My last day of travelling to an office. From now on I’d be working from home, if at all. As it turned out, allotments were allowed to remain open, so there’d be plenty of time to rebuild, and to discuss progress with neighbours from the socially distanced width of a raised bed.