1875. The old woodshed

36 Replies

My late husband made this woodshed many, many years ago. It was very handy, not just for the wood, but I used to pot my house plants in there as well. My husband was very patient; he didn’t mind if I made a mess with the potting mix.

Of course the woodshed has other memories too. It was where my nephew Bartholomew accidentally injured his hand while cutting up kindling to start a fire. And it was where Virgil, a ward of the State we were looking after for the summer, set fire to a pile of old newspapers and just about burnt the whole place down. Thank goodness almost everything was made of corrugated iron. And then there was the time we caught a rat in the rat trap cage and Rocky – that was my husband – was away at a work weekend and I was too scared to go near the rat cage because of the rat. So the poor thing had to stay in the cage for several days. I kept throwing a jug of water on the cage thinking if it got thirsty it could lick the droplets off the cage wire.

So now, years later, I’ve had the shed bulldozed over. It wasn’t a bulldozer; it was a big tractor with huge fork-prong things in the front. The workmen were busy on the road that goes past my house, so I went out and put my hand up in the air for the tractor to stop when I saw it coming. I said, “Look, I’m an eighty-five year old widow and I have this woodshed that I don’t use anymore because I have a heat pump, and it’s starting to get dangerous. Every time there’s a gale I think it’s going to blow over into the house. I was wondering if you could drive the tractor onto my property and push the shed over.”

He said, “Of course lady. That’s no trouble and will only take a minute. The boss doesn’t need to know.”

So he drove the tractor into the wood shed and pushed it over like it was a pile of dead leaves. I was very grateful, and then he drove off.

I was wondering; what is an eighty-five year old widow meant to do with a huge amount of corrugated iron? It’s lying all over the place and the next wind it’s going to kick up bobsy-dye.

36 thoughts on “1875. The old woodshed”

  1. Herb

    I have to admit that I needed the Google to figure out what “bobsy-die” was. She could sue the government because the worker came onto her property and smashed down the woodshed. She could settle if they will just pay her for the cost of the woodshed and pick up the debris. If the driver claims she asked him to do it, there’s no written contract of any sort and no witnesses to the verbal contract. And after all, would a sweet little old granny and auntie make up a story like that? As I think on it, she could throw some pain and suffering into the mix because of the sentimental value of it. She’s a slick one, she is.

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            1. Cloven Ruminant Post author

              They went through with a broom before the final inspection and made holes in the ceiling. They took photos to show the judge. Unfortunately (for them) computer photos have the date and time on them and these holes were photographed several days after they had moved in and I had moved out!

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              1. Herb

                That’s crazy. I can’t imagine disliking anyone or even wanting that much money to perjure myself in court. What a nasty person. I hope you have written him into at least a couple of your stories.

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                  1. Herb

                    Charming family. If I ever get to visit New Zealand, please don’t do me the pleasure of introducing me. Hahahaha. I thought Australia was the land of poisonous animals.

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  2. badfinger20 (Max)

    I’m with Herb on this one.

    NOUN
    New Zealand informal
    fuss; confusion; pandemonium (esp in the phrases kick up bobsy-die, play bobsy-die)

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  3. badfinger20 (Max)

    “if it got thirsty it could lick the droplets off the cage wire”… Bruce if the story only contained that… it would be worth it.

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  4. João-Maria

    How do these things just come about, in your mind? The same sentiment grows by reading your passingshower.pdf. Mattie saying that they are good kids because none of them smoke, it’s marvelous, because it feels as if you encapsulated all manners of conversations and you just pour them out with a bit of added magnitude.
    It really fascinates me, this titivating of the banal that you are able to do, perhaps a bit exclusively.

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    1. Cloven Ruminant Post author

      That is such a lovely thing to say, João-Maria – the sort of comment that makes me want to write more (and bore the heck out of some people!) I’ve had a number start following and reading my site since your kind recommendation on your blog. Thank you! This morning (it’s your tomorrow morning over here of course) I wrote the first draught of a poem that (for me) is radically different. I will eventually send it for critique and you will be able to make mince meat of it!!

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  5. dumbestblogger

    Think how convenient it would be for an eighty-five year old woman who was tired of her marriage to do away with her husband by having a random work crew come destroy her head when her husband was inside of it. It would be almost like pushing over an outhouse.

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  6. umashankar

    The eighty five year old lady seems to harbour a thing or two about the woodshed. Maybe she had had a torrid affair with a worker in there. Thanks to Herb above, I could understand the intent of this new affair.

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