A Game of Sheds.

Before I start, I feel I should point out that this does not involve High Medieval Fantasy, Mr Sean Bean, gratuitous sex scenes or casual and extreme violence.

(At least, not in any of my sheds.............

The very thought.

This is Cambridgeshire, for Heaven's sake.)

No, for any and all of the above, you want 'A Game of Thrones', which is not what this post is about at all.

Just thought I'd better clear that one up........

So, anyway, what game has been played out amongst the crenallated battlements that constitute The Sheds of Pippin?

(Note, 'sheds' is plural:

I now have three.

Which some regard as excessive........)

I will tell you.

I have invented a new game.

It is called "Shed Tetris"............

(You are familiar with Tetris? If not, Google it. I could try to explain but it would seriously impinge upon the narrative flow.

Not that that's ever bothered me too much before, I know, but there is a limit..........)

Anyway, today, I returned from Bournemouth, where I had paid a visit to the ancestral home to clear the last of my junk out of my Dad's garage and out from under his feet.

The Suzuki, which, (nominally at least), is shed number four, was loaded to the gunwhales.

It still is.

Yes, no matter how hard I tried to bend the latest lot of possessions into pleasing tessallations, the sheds would admit no more.

Hmmmmmmm....................

Something's got to give............

I may actually have to start getting rid of stuff!

You heard it here first!

:-)