I've been building a shed for a little while now, but I had originally planned on having someone build one for me. The woodworking programs at CNC and the jail make a couple of sheds a year, so I thought they could help. However, a couple of my friends figured I could build a bigger, better shed and it would be easier and cheaper than having it done for me.
After several months of shed building these people are no longer my friends.
The first step was to decide what size the shed was going to be, and after my no-longer friends argued for two hours over at what point I would need a building permit from the city, I went to the city's planning department to ask for myself.
Both of them were wrong.
Having decided what the dimensions the newer, better shed would be I then had to get rid of the old one, which had collapsed partially because of all the snow we had last year (I did not build that shed), and partly because the builder didn't use pressure-treated wood for the floor. Due to the floor being on the ground the wood rotted. The steel shed's roof that used to be about eight-feet high had dropped to about five-and-a-half feet and it had to be replaced.
The only problem is all the stuff that used to be in the shed is now in my garage awaiting the grand opening of my new shed.
Even though I know I will be the only one attending the grand opening and ribbon cutting ceremony, my lovely wife has kindly given me permission to use her birthday cake sparklers, but only if I promise to wear oven mitts when handling them. Hopefully they won't set the shed on fire.
But before I could get started on the shed there was an old greenhouse attached to the back of it (also rotten) that needed to be knocked down.
That was a lot of fun.
It allowed me to take out all my aggression. Pounding it with a hammer, kicking the heck out of it, and yanking on it like a persistent three year old on his dad's pants leg trying to get his attention. Getting all this aggression out and demolishing the greenhouse made me feel good to be a man. Although I did get quite a nasty splinter that took forever to get out. I only cried a little. My wife referred to me as a big baby when she was telling her friends about the splinter, but the needle she used to get it out was huge.
Before I could get to work I first had to get rid of the old shed and because I am allergic to some flying insect bites or stings (Epipen required), and as there was a hive under the rotten floor of the shed, getting rid of the hive required some ingenuity.
Once I cleared away enough of the old shed to be able to see the nest I got several cans of insect killer - the one you can spray from 15 feet away - and waited till it was dark to go on my nocturnal assault.
Donning my protective gear: tucking my track pants into my socks; putting a tuque on my head; wearing protective goggles; wrapping a soccer scarf around the bottom part of my face that was exposed and shoving on my winter gloves (Note: it is hard to use an aerosol with winter gloves on) I headed toward the nest for my killing spree.
With my allergy it was either kill or be killed, but I was willing to die if that's what it took to get the shed built.
Protective gear on I sneaked down the driveway past the house to within the required 15 feet of the hive, flashlight in one hand and bug spray in the other. Noticing no activity around the hive I sprayed for as long as I thought was safe then ran like someone who had stole the crown jewels down the driveway and back into the garage.
This was the routine for the next three nights until I was sure everything in the hive was dead. Only then could I take off my protective equipment, I even slept with it on. I'm not sure what the neighbours thought of this, but I'm sure there is a video making the rounds on YouTube by now.
Hive gone I was able to get rid of the last of the old shed and get it moved to the scrap yard and the dump and the memorial service for the bees was moved to 11 a.m. that Thursday due to a conflict with the scrap yard.
When I started building the shed I had absolutely no idea what I was doing and now that it is almost finished, I can proudly say that I still have no idea what I am doing. All I know is it takes a lot of math, a lot of wood, quite a bit of patience and a huge amount of research on YouTube, and if you have any kind of allergy, a lot of protective clothing.
