In My Room by The Beach Boys

I just finished writing a brilliant post (see below... I’ll wait) and I concluded by saying:

I’ll be in the shed.

And then the thought of ‘In My Room’ floated through my head, a song that was the flip side to a Beach Boys’ hit from the 1960s.

The song In My Room not only became on of my favourites at the time but is now a favourite of my oldest son Dave. How did that happen, so many years later? That’s another story.

I say to my wife (or write on a note) ‘I’ll be in the shed’ several times per week, at least 4 or 5 days out of every seven.

I wonder why?

I do like the smell of freshly cut cedar and even though I was cutting pine and spruce yesterday, the smell of cedar, though slight, hangs in the air.

I am my father’s son and he wasn’t one to sit still for long. He always had to be doing something. Dave is like that too.

Sure, I have 19 little piles of lumber that need to be sanded, stained and assembled into birdhouses, but there’s no rush, as far as I’m concerned.

My first bowl is on the lathe too. Still no rush.

I think part of the answer lies in how the time passes so easily in the shed. There’s no rush, no push to have a job done by supper time or any other time.


["At present, the chairs are loaded with 19 birdhouses": photo GAH]

I have a clock but I barely know it’s there. There’s hardly ever a reason to look at it.

When a job is done it leaves the shed, and makes room on the bench for the next job.

There’s always a next job, one I’m looking forward to completing.

Which reminds me, I should set up the sander.

I’ll be in the shed.

***

Everyone needs a shed, or their own room.

What was the A side to In My Room?

Send me a picture of your workshop. We’ll trade notes.

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