Pimping the potting shed interior

This felt inevitable. And dear god it’s a hard job.

I kept the painting trousers on and had a mad rush of blood.

Now that I have started improving the look of the potting shed exterior, why not confront the main project that has been years on my wish list?

Inside. The maw of stuff. The place where zillions of pots go to die. Or in my case lie in stacks underneath my staging benches. And eventually topple or get yanked about and shoved deeper underneath.

The catalyst? Wondering why the cat was no longer snoozing in her cashmere lined apple crate at the far end of the potting shed in the sunshine.

Was it the lack of old cashmere jumpers? No. She has plenty. Baffled I lifted up the crate and found an ants nest! They had merrily feasted on a combination of spilt compost and slightly damp wood from the crates. So that was a frantic sweeping exercise and shoving the whole thing outside in the garden to let the ants colonise somewhere else.

Oh the shame and mortification. This is the equivalent of the unmade up face of a super model. Very much a Before Shot. But an honest shot of life after the crazy seed sowing season.

So it was time. That plus the fact I found a five litre pot of Farrow and Ball Cook’s Blue equivalent paint that my lovely neighbour Lynn left for me when she moved back to England.

I had actually planned for this blue to be an undercoat and then cover the whole thing in my favourite Sap Green.

But I’m leaving it mad electric channelling Le Douanier Rousseau paint effect blue.

And now that the gaps are clear I can shove the citrus trees out of the way but ensure they keep getting sunlight from the new cleaned polycarbonate roof above. That’s my summer shading ‘cloth’ of Virginia creeper working it’s wonderful verdant way across the top.

It’s the year of rationalisation.

Just how many pots and seedling trays do I really need?

After 17 years I know what I grow. And what I propagate and what I fall for and buy. And what I get given. Do I need to slim down the stack?

Hell yes.

And best of all, I got to regift hundreds of the pots to my friends Jerome and Melanie who sell organic seedlings from their snazzy business les Cotyledons.

I swapped them for an Akebia which Melanie grew and will join my passionflower that is climbing up inside the shed along the Virginia creeper vegetation that also grows indoors.

But the pots were the easy bit. The rest was just stuff. Tools I really will never need or use. Tools inherited. Gifts. Rash purposes…

So while I lard this post with pretty pictures of painted walls … what you don’t see is all the accumulated junk being pushed out of the shots. Acres of fleece. Oh so random ‘this will come in useful bits’.

I have done one tip run. And next up is the charity shop on Thursday which I hope will take all the tools. I’m sure they will. The tools and garden kit is fine… it’s just not for me. Or no longer for me.

One day this potting shed will be so orderly and tidy that I can bring back my chaise longue and loll about. Not worrying about the mystery stuff underneath the benches or dreading the words ‘I really need to sort’.

And I can show off the beautiful zinc potting table from Andrew that was always in the wrong place. I have removed one of my staging tables and have it right at the far end of the shed.

And yes. I will paint those window frames the same Graphite black as soon as I get more paint.

For now…. feast

And pray for a dry day so I can haul all the junk out to the car and not get wet.