Photo by Jeff Weese
Having recently upgraded our living arrangements, from a flimsy non-water resistant tent to a large sturdy shed, Ben and I have taken advantage of the luxury that only a tin roof can provide.
Our new home is not dissimilar to a one-bedroom loft equipped with antique-like dresser and wardrobes, large canvas artwork, open plan lounge room with suede lounge suite, a gym set and a bathroom in the midst of being built.
I love our new comfortable, clean and organised surroundings. It may be a shed but it’s OUR shed. It may not be Four Seasons, but it’s home.
Unfortunately, and to my great dismay, Ben and I have some unwanted tenants who have also decided to move right on in. Did they have the decency to ask us if they could move in? No. Have they offered to pay rent? No. And each time I come home from work, there they are.
Living with these creatures have made me a tougher broad. Really. I don’t scream when I see a spider in the shed. I just start looking for the heel of a leather shoe instead. I don’t flinch when I see a mouse skittering around. I don’t even flinch when I see a dead mouse in the shed (thanks to Ratsak). I’ve learnt that a good hardcover book is better than a paperback book for swatting those blasted mozzies. And the crickets get scooped up and deposited into Dodo‘s – our hen’s – cage.
So if you live with some annoying, messy, weird human tenants, thank your lucky stars. I’d be happy to trade with you any day!