Friday, 22 May 2009

Grandads Potting Shed

Potting sheds, especially those painted blue are quintessentially English, don't you think.
As a child I was allowed to use a similar shed as a den, and it was my favourite place to hang out. Not blue like this one, but preserved in creosote, such that everyone could always tell when I'd been in there by the eye watering smell which emanated from my body for the following week or two.
Currently my sense of smell is terrible, a bonus on many occasions, especially during those "nappy" years, and I do often wonder if the daily bombardment of my inner nasal structures with the toxic creosote at such a tender age, was a significant aetiological factor. I'm sure many things its wouldn't be allowed in this modern health and safety consious era.

Grandads Potting Shed

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