Ever since we moved into Wind Dancer Farm, I’ve itched to do something about the eyesore which was our woodshed.

Note the lovely heavy duty shadecloth gift wrapping… Very pretty. Not.

Ok. Its just a woodshed.

But I had a dream.

I dreamed of a pretty woodshed.

Something rustic, made from old weathered timber, with signs hanging on it and a yellow climbing rose growing up it.

Ok. The rose will have to wait. That will take a few years to grow up up the woodshed.

If indeed climbing roses are frost and strong wind tolerant.

Anyway, back to the point…

I’ve been itching to give the shed a makeover. It was clad in that dreary shadecloth. And we had piles of old timber lying in the back paddock, rotting away.

Wayne pointed out that we had to use that timber soon or it would be beyond using. At which point I jumped at the chance to bring up my plans to redo the woodshed. Again.

Note: Previously, every time I brought up the ‘woodshed makeover’ plan I got eye rolling.

Bring up using old timber which needs to be used or burned to clean up the paddock, and suddenly Wayne is making plans… Turns out I was just going about it the wrong way all this time!

Over our break (this week we’re on holidays from work) we were going to make over the woodshed!

Yeah!

It seemed like an easy plan.

It would have been if we agreed on the basics of how to go about doing it.

My idea: rip off the shadecloth (so we can see what’s under it), put in extra support bits to nail the timber cladding to, and go from there.

His idea: lay the timber straight over the top of the shadecloth cause he didn’t want to go to the trouble of removing it and cause it would involve moving firewood.

Of course I won.

Mainly cause I said I’d do the removing on my own, as well as moving any firewood needed to do the job.

We started on Sunday morning. Or should I say, I started on Sunday morning.

I spent what seemed like 52 hours (and was probably only 2) removing the shadecloth. I still have scratches, scrapes and a slice just above one of my nails thanks to the shadecloth…**

The heavy duty,  metal infused shadecloth which medieval armour was make of.

Then I put on gloves.

By the end I could only reach 3 sides of the shed as there was firewood piled high against the 3rd side.

In the afternoon we drove the ute out to the paddock and loaded it up with timber. Brought it close the woodshed. Brought out the power tools and got to work.

We did a bit of arguing about what would go where and in the end we compromised.

i.e. I won.

We discovered my circular saw is stuffed. It works fine for a while, then jams and kicks back. No idea what’s going on. We decided it wasn’t worth the risk, so brought out the drop saw. Sensible.

We worked till late on Sunday afternoon and got the supports in and finished one side.

We had sore muscles where we didn’t know we had muscles afterwards. Ouch.

Monday, after a few errands in New Norfolk, we got back to work. This time Wayne cut the timber to size in the paddock using his chainsaw.

Easier.

Sometimes he has good ideas.

It was quick and easy. All we needed to do was nail up the boards. That meant me carrying them over and Wayne nailing them on.

We got one more side finished and the 3rd wall almost finished till the rain chased us indoors.

Of course, it wasn’t without some stuff-ups. This wall below for instance. This was the result of the following conversation:

“Should I get the level?”

“No. We don’t need a level.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Its just s shed. I want it rustic.”

OOPS.

Tuesday we both looked at it and agreed. We had to rip those boards off and redo that section.

After we fixed the crooked bits, I tackled the shadecloth again. Wayne was really worried that the wood would get wet if it rained, cause the slats don’t fit perfectly.

Hmph.

So, in order to not hear “I told you so” next winter, I said I’d take care of it. I measured and cut the shadecloth, then clambered over the ever shifting pile of wood, legs spread-eagled, slipping and sliding, to nail it all up.

(Note: nail tacks in the back pocket isn’t a good idea if you end up on your butt.)

Then came the fun part. Moving the pile of wood from the outside of the shed to the inside. See it there? under the sagging roofline?

 I cut a hole in the remaining shadecloth and picked up and tossed every single piece of wood into the shed.

My back!

But in the end I had a clean and tidy outside, under cover (more or less) area.

The plan is this: we’ll need to redo the roof on that outside area. Then new wood that needs chopping will be staked there. Wayne does the chopping in our driveway right now, but with this area cleaned out now, he can chop on the grassy bit to the left of the shed where there’s room to swing an axe. He wanted to keep the door (I was all for closing in that whole side), so he’ll be putting an old shed door I brought from my old home on there tomorrow. The side that opens to the undercover area will get made into a large door so chopped wood can get tossed in.

All in all, its going well. I plan to do some more work to the exterior, make a sign for it… stay tuned.

Unfortunately,  I’ve managed to mangle my middle and ring fingers on my left hand. Typing is Really hard with one hand and 1 finger… Its like type, type, backspace, backspace…

How? Well, we took a load of trash to the tip this morning and somehow I managed to jam my fingers in the ute door. YOUCH!

There I was, fingers jammed, swearing up a storm (a couple of men nearby blushed) and trying to pull them free. Took me a few seconds to realise I could open the door with my other hand. I swear, if I’d been in water, I’d have drowned.

**The shadecloth cut is now gone. Sliced off with a bit of my nail bed. Nice.

Nothing broken at least, I had an xray and had a tetanus shot (ouchies). I opted to get the shot in the same arm. Why spread the pain?

So here I am. feeling sorry for myself.

At least I can’t do dishes!

z