I can picture every inch of my She Shed.
It has freshly cut flowers and a twinkling chandelier. It has an overstuffed armchair and white French doors and pastel curtains that flutter in the breeze. There are vintage teapots and crystal glasses and pillows to recline on when naptime calls.
It's the anti-Man Cave.
Men? Hey, they can have their jukeboxes and their pool tables and their 200-inch televisions and their mini beer fridges. I'll take a plush white sectional and a wicker rocker and some geraniums grown in a watering can.
Men can have their leather recliners and their dartboards and their poker sets and their boom boxes. I'll take my silk robe and my scented candles and my sweet little built-in speakers that serenade me all day with Mozart.
Problem is, I don't have built-in speakers. Or vintage teapots. Or a twinkling chandelier. I don't have a plush white sectional, or even a plush green or plush yellow sectional.
I have geraniums, but they're in a basket hanging
out front.
I have pillows, but they're on the bed, directly beneath the headboard.
I have a shed, but it's stuffed with all manner of things, none of which speaks to me. The lawn mower. The winter tires. The power washer. The pruning shears.
The tool kit, the shovel, the drill.
Not terribly romantic, if you ask me.
"We need to empty the shed," I told the husband.
"I know," he said. "It needs a good re-org."
"No," I said. "I don't think you get my drift. We need to empty the shed."
He looked at me, decidedly confused.
"Maybe I'm missing something here," he said,
"but where would we keep, oh, the lawn mower?" I shrugged my shoulders.
"I don't know," I said.
"We'll figure that out. But the point is, we need to make space for my armchair and chandelier." The husband looked really, really, really confused. The husband, let's just say, had not yet heard about my longing for a She Shed.
I had suspected, right from the get go, that the husband was going to be less than enthusiastic when I suggested we turn the garden shed into an ultra feminine getaway for yours truly.
I was absolutely right. "So," he said, scratching his head. "You want to put a chandelier in the shed? And a chair?" "And a sectional," I said. "And candles. And lots and lots of pillows."
The husband nodded, but clearly didn't understand.
Turning my vision into reality, it occurred to me, would take a bit of work, so I'm going to start small. Tomorrow, I take the drill from the shed, and put in a teapot instead.
