I like the sound of a luxury shed, you'll need to share photos of course
[/quote]
I plead guilty to a bit of bragging when I used the term 'luxury'.
But picture my present shed! Picture a 6' x 3' stark sentry box on a long forgotten frontier. No space to swing a bulimic stoat, let alone a mature cat.
It is raining..
A depressed man huddles within it ; hemmed in by rake, fork and strimmer, forced to go outside even to check his wristwatch.
Two weeks ago I was the first to chance on an ill-written notice taped to the allotment gates. An 8'x6' summerhouse, free to the dismantler and transporter.
Free is my favourite price...
My gardening mate has a Transit. The sections of the summerhouse now lean against my old shed.
A new base has been laid. Money expended on cement, timber, screws and other necessaries.
We have tested the new timber floor to ensure it's dimensions will fulfill its most vital function - to seat two retired men on folding chairs with a small table between them, crafted from a pallet. This table will carry our flasks, mugs, Custard Creams, and budget Kit-Kats.
I am from the school of gardening which believes every hour of toil at spade or hoe should be matched by an hour of tea-drinking, eating stuff and gossiping.
The new shed walls go up shortly. In a week or two we will sit like lords in the dry, gazing through the open double doors at the less fortunate, toiling in the drizzle.
I'll step outside to put a few more meal worms on my robins' tree stump. Then ease back into my chair, looking round at the neat racks of tools, the orderly shelves, the sheer 8' x 6' opulence of it all...
"Lidl Club biscuit?", my mate will say..
I pour another drop of tea. My mate hands me the biscuit..
"The best revenge, Russ", I shall say, "is living well..."