Every Man Needs A Shed

Life and Games (but mostly games) from Tony Boydell: Dad, Husband and Independent UK Game Designer, Agricola fanboy and jealous admirer of Carl Chudyk. www.surprisedstaregames.co.uk
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Anthony Boydell
United Kingdom
Newent. Glos
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Every homo sapiens needs an outbuilding within the curtelage of their property
Welcome...to my Shed!
The weather forecast (and quite a few folks around me) had prophesied a wet weekend so when the sun came out and the skies remained mostly-blue, Arthur and I sneaked away for an hour to the Ledbury Car Boot! The clouds stayed away and Arthur was thrilled to locate some quality Lego (an X-Wing and 3-in-1 creator) kits for a total of 35 quid. I managed to snag an ex-library, Fifth printing copy of Diamonds Are Forever complete with slip cover and protective plastic sheath (oo-er, missus!) for a quid. Bargain, indeed.

By mid afternoon, the warmth and the dry were still very much in evidence so I set off for an amble to Oxenhall via the remains of the Daffodil Line:

The under-area of the road bridge - in private hands - has been extensively cleared and it looks a rather spiffing clearing. I wandered to the lane to see the house to which this secret place is attached and began a lengthy daydream about this being the venue for my Museum! I imagined laying a short length of rail running under the bridge and then getting a steam engine to rest upon it; then I would erect a greenhouse around it all and turn it into a an exhibition space. Of course, I would then negotiate with the landowners with a view to securing a walking (cinder) path all the way to the old Newent Station site: puzzles, information boards and ephemera scattered along the route.

I noted a large, fallow field over the lane that would serve marvelously for car parking; the iron 'Gloucester Corporation' gates could be replaced with something GWR-ish and the house would be given over to my (and my pals') burgeoning collection of games and gaming artifacts!

As if to send me a small signal of approval, Fate delivered a new find in the Summer-shallowing stream - a soup pot?

Edit: It's a Porringer Pot for Provost Oats - thanks to Entwife for spotting the text around the rim!

The out-of-town location and the simple-but-mouldable potential had me rapt for a happy, becalmed 90 minutes; not even a handful of grumpy 'watch out!' car horn toots could break my mellow mood.

It rained in the early evening, of course; much too late to spoil yet another tranquil weekend.
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