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The Daily Grind

Kraken lovers, I often get told that I am bogglingly lucky to have my own sewing shed and, indeed, it is true that I am lucky enough have a cave of my own in which to sew my funky fabric bags, covers, cases and craftivism. Thing is, apart from not having to tidy away the tools of my trade at the end of every day, the sewing shed means I can also work from home. That’s right, I can dress like a hobo, live in my slippers and work my way through the household’s Jaffa Cake stash while no one else is looking. I’m livin’ the dream, darlings, livin’ the dream.

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Now, I’m used to working like Howard Hughes in his pee-saving period. Before working with pins I worked with pens as a freelance broadsheet journalist. Back then my sewing shed was my home office and instead of the sound of a sewing machine there was the heady thrum of endless swear words as I hurtled towards my deadlines. And yes, what I create now may be totally different to what I created then but some things never change and they are the rules of shed working. That’s why I have created this handy list of ‘don’ts’ for those of you who aspire to work from you own shiplap-clad erection one day.  Ready? Good. You need to be:

Do not adjust your greying bra, checking your cleavage for food, while in view of the glass door of the sewing shed, at least not while the postman is peering through it while waving a letter.

Do not sympathise with your husband’s complaint about an hour-long, traffic-jammed commute by responding, “I know just how you feel. My slippers got soaked on the way to the shed this morning!”

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Do not frantically scamper across the patio to your shed in the dark after the wind has blown a sweeping brush across your path.

Do not place a screechingly hot cup of coffee within a metre radius of your just-finished intricate embroidery when your elbow is experiencing some sort of magnetic attraction to porcelain.

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Do not leave the iron on overnight however much you want the shed to be somewhere above the temperature of freezing come the morning.

Do not dance freakishly to da tunes on Kiss FM because the paperboy will lose control of his various sphincters when he seems you relive the 90s with your big-fish-little-fish-cardboard-box effort.

Do not think that answering back the Radio 2 presenter constitutes a full and vital social life. It doesn’t.

Do not have internet access in your sewing shed, not unless you want to spend eight hours a day googling the words ‘John Hamm’ and ‘hambone’. End of.

Dogs