Tidy the shed, tidy the mind...

I tidied the shed today. Yes me, not my husband for he is not to be trusted.

The shed was, what seemed an irreconcilable disaster. Half boxes of repeated, rusted and tarnished tools everywhere. I blanched at the sheer magnitude of the problem. My husband also, not so much as blanched as physically rebuked my obviously inappropriate intrusion.

Well, quite frankly, I did a good job. You can now enter the shed as opposed to battle the inevitable avalanche every time you open the door. Things are grouped accordingly; plumbing, tiling, electricals, decoration and just miscellaneous C.RA.P. In fact, I came across a 3 hour VHS tape of 'Pure', many a mixtape and some 1940's vinyl. The clear boxes should make the tools easily identifiable and have enough 'hand room to rake around in' (quote unquote untidy husband.) It took 4 hours and a sore back to achieve it.

Not ONE word of praise, only a derisory snort and 'have you finished yet?' is all I got in return. I don't care though, cos I know I have made the primeval man cave better...

Note to all men, an untidy shed, is vastly unattractive in a man.