The big spiders scuttled
And spun dusty webs
To the sound of the birds outside.
I sat in my Manshed
Watching dust motes float by
Thinking about cutting my hair.
Locked down many weeks
And the honey-do list done
I pondered what to do next.
I’d done all the painting
And cleaned all the dirt
And fixed the old wonky seat.
I jumped up from my bench
And went out into the sun
And realised how lucky I am.
………..
I own a Manshed where I make stuff and think about stuff.