And so do many trades, perhaps none more so than the small time fisherman.
Having been away for a week up at my No 1 son's place we used the opportunity to revisit a lovely area, where sheddery was at its finest, including, in my view, the best shed a man could have, though it's unfortunately rusting away. Here it is on its one long leg!
I believe this was once the Harbourmaster's hut at St. Abbs, just o'er the border into Scotland. I covet that shed like no other!
St. Abbs contains a good many sheds. In fact almost as many as cottages, since fishing was the main (indeed for some time the ONLY) pursuit.
Here are more, all concerned with the storage, repair and re-manufacture of creels, lobster pots and nets and gear generally. All of them have the most wonderful smell about them. A young chap was weaving a new lobster pot in that open doorway when I took this shot.
This last has a quite complex structure, containing brick, block, rubble, wood and felt and fits onto a much earlier wall.
And when is a shed a hut?
Here's one with a very important purpose. Dishing up fresh-as-you-like shellfish and feeding the unwanted stuff to a group of seals who are always in Eyemouth Harbour.
Blue, again. Seems to be a popular colour with sheds, boats et al. Indeed, there are private harbours where you are only allowed a blue or black boat and one assumes a matching shed. Seals jump in the air for proffered fish bits just behind this hut (centre, distant) and live here all year round.
The model appeals of sheds are hardly needful of extolling. Eccentricity, infinite variety, material choices, finishing methods, any amount of levels of deterioration and decrepitude, uses to which put, signwriting of names and trades, additions and modifications, salvation methods from the vicissitudes of the weather....and all small enough to model in any scale without breaking the bank of house-space or material cost.
What's not to love about a shed?