November 2015, I finally bit the bullet and work commenced on my long awaited garden workshop.
I had a small budget stashed away but the thought of mud moving through my house (no side entrance) had delayed the build. In the summer months, I was busy enjoying my garden, then as autumn through to winter would approach the cycle of putting it off, began again.
My son’s friend Paddy declared he would do the foundation… the dirty bit. Before I knew it his dad PJ was on the scene and over the next two to three months up it went. It wasn’t an unusual or a special build, I just needed somewhere warm and light. Now I could house all my collections, some might say hoardings and somewhere to get me off the kitchen table!
I have alway made things, my mum taught me to sew and I did basic woodwork in my dad’s workshop, where he did antique restoration after a long career as a fashion photographer. Between the two of them they oozed style in everything they created, not in a grand way, they just had it, lifestyle.
So the penny didn’t fall far with an appreciation for detail, colour, old-finds
and a love of as I say “cutting and sticking”, so my ‘makes’ began.
The workshop was born, just over a year ago and it could still do with the green climber reaching the front to soften the basic shape. I have yet to put up my festoon lighting a birthday present from my sister, but I have painted the floor and filled the shelves.
With my radio on, coffee to hand, the picture of my dad (now no longer with us) on the side, I am in my slice of heaven…..my long-awaited space to create.
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