Men's sheds

are nothing like those comfortable cosy craft spaces belonging to other humans.
The Senior Cat has a shed. He hasn't been able to use it for the last couple of years. Middle Cat read the Riot Act and told him he was not permitted to use the circular saw several years ago. He meekly agreed. Since then he has done little things but now he feels unsafe.
He has now passed the contents of the shed over to my brother. 
My brother has less space than the Senior Cat. He looked at the shed when he was here in November last year. He came into me looking a little pale.
    "Heck Cat! The mess out there...."
    "I know," I told him, "It's not safe to even venture in."
It isn't quite that bad but it isn't good. The friend from the Senior Cat's church who helps us with two hours of very heavy gardening once a fortnight needed some duct tape yesterday. I knew there was some in the shed.
     "It's in the drawers on the side," the Senior Cat told me.
     "No, it isn't. I thought it was too."
     "I had better come and look."
     "No, just think."
     "Well it is somewhere on the side. He can have a look."
I went back to our friend. We found it in one of the cupboards. His parting words were,
     "It's just as well your brother will be over tonight."
And yes, Brother Cat and his partner arrived last night. They are staying with Middle Cat and they will spend the next three days clearing out the shed - or as much of it as they can in that time. They came to see us before they settled in for the night and discussed how this was to be done.
     "But it might be useful...." the Senior Cat started to say. Brother Cat shook his head. 
      "I don't use slotted screws any more." 
Oh. The Senior Cat slumped.
      "I've got a couple of old golf ball typewriters out there. I picked them up for nothing. I used some of the springs..."
      "They are land fill now..."
      "What?!"
And so it went on.
Brother Cat hugged the Senior Cat before they left - not common these days. They love one another deeply but it seems men of a certain age don't hug one another.
After they had gone to Middle Cat's place the Senior Cat sat there staring into space for a long time. I know he isn't happy about not being able to use the shed and watching so much of it go is going to be even harder.
I went on clearing away the tea things. Then I heard him sigh and mutter,
     "At least  he'll get rid of those rusty old paint tins."