I have a shed, it’s in the backyard behind our tiny house, in the middle of urban Greenville. It’s there for a number of reasons, some are spiritual, some are emotional and some are physical.
Physically: It’s there because we substantially downsized our home this past year. I love the simplicity and freedom a small house brings, but despite my best effort at reducing our stuff, we were actually still short one room and that would be my room/office. So I bought a shed because somehow I couldn’t quite see Mike and all his books in the yard.
Emotionally: It’s there because I have always loved sheds and have been talking about getting one for a long long time. They are part of my growing up. In my memories they were filled with broken bicycles, rusty garden tools, overflowing compost bags and plastic potting plants. Then for one year, when I was 9 years old, the shed housed my pet mouse, Cocoa.
Spiritually: It’s there because I have in my head the belief that the shed would be an wonderful retreat, and inside this oasis I would be able to study the Bible and pray without ceasing.
The reality, like so many times, differs from the expectations we paint inside our heads and hearts.
The reality is that I had a limited budget, so after discovering you need a small mortgage to buy a shed that looks like the ones on Pinterest, I had to rethink. One day while driving around my new town, I came across some secondhand ones. Who knew they actually existed? With typical decisiveness, I bought one on the spot. It was so easy to buy mainly because it was the right color—it matched the siding on our house perfectly—and it was exactly the right price.
The reality is that the shed—great though it is—is actually a work-in-progress. It doesn’t look all Martha Stewart or even shabby chic. It could, of course, look amazing. It’s just not there yet—a bit like all of us. Lots of potential, but not enough time, discipline or money. One of those always seems to be elusive, just out of reach.
I did some Internet research to find ways of improving it, and during this process I discovered there are other women creating their own space and place to escape to, and this following is called the She Sheds movement. I felt I had discovered my lost tribe.
So I am on this journey with my shed, and you are welcome to walk with me. I am going to share short stories from my shed. I will tell stories about my world, my community, my family, my faith and all from my heart.
I am inviting you to walk with me to the market and coffee shop and to discover along the way what I like to fling into my crockpot in the five minutes I have before leaving the house and how I love to go treasure hunting at Salvation Army stores. I want to chat about the big and small life lessons that smack me in the face daily, the things I really still don’t understand and all the mistakes I have made in the adventure I call my life. I will photograph the good, the bad and the ugly of these moments, and I will use this blog, Instagram, Periscope and Pinterest as ways of letting you join me in these conversations.
Then I want to hear your stories—the ones you want to share from your shed, trailer, apartment, car or house and the lessons you have learned—because I believe it’s so much better for all of us, but especially us women, when we stop comparing, competing and looking sideways and instead choose compassion and community and build an extended family.
Come walk with me.