My favourite gardener Bob Flowerdew talks about his shed in the shed friendly telegraph.
The garden shed is man’s last refuge. I live in Diss, Norfolk, and it’s my tranquil haven, the furthest away from the neighbours and my three-year-old twins, where I don’t have to be tidy or have a mobile phone with me.
It’s not particularly modern, there is nothing glaringly new, no sharp corners or smell of fresh paint.
My family are old Norfolk farmers and we have always collected a lot of junk.
This shed is where I sort things out, make notes of what I will plant, and store and dry seeds. During the growing season I spend several hours a week in here; on warm summer nights I take my mattress and sleep out there. It’s like camping without the hassle.