Tag: Garden

Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why You Should Build A Pub Shed

Now that 7 Reasons has wound down its daily service, we have been wondering where to keep the 7 Reasons sofa. Then Matthew Wilby got in touch. And he had the solution. A pub shed! We don’t need convincing further, but should you then Matthew has all the reasons you require. Let’s be honest though, who needs reasons? It’s a pub shed!

1. No Walk Home. We all love going to the pub, it’s a great place to enjoy a few too many pints. But you know what we don’t like… the walk home. If you turn your garden sheds into a pub, the walk home is much shorter, unless you have a very, very large garden. But then you might as well build your own pub.

2. Recession. We all want to save money and making your own pub shed is the perfect way to save vital pennies. Buying your own beers from the local shop is much cheaper than buying a pint at the local pub and then of course there is the option of inviting all your friends round and telling them to bring the beer.

3. Guest List. Your pub shed has a very exclusive guest list – the pub shed gives you power, power to ban, power to invite and power to party. In a pub shed there are no girlfriends, no karaoke, and no teenagers – just good people. A pub shed allows you to have a good time with your friends without having to worry about any other fools turning up.

4. Sports. I like watching football in the pub but people are always getting in the way and obstructing the screen when a crucial goal is being scored. The solution is obvious. You guessed it. A pub shed. A pub shed is the perfect location for a flat screen telly with a full Sky Sports package. You can now enjoy your favourite sports without any distraction. And a cold pint too. Though you will have to get up and pour it yourself.

5. Comfort. Pubs are great, but don’t you wish they were a bit cosier? The wooden bench is no competition for a comfy, well worn sofa. There are no rules when it comes to pub shed furniture either. You can lounge around on whatever you like. And however you like too. That’s the beauty of a pub shed.

6. Last Orders. In a pub shed there is a bell behind the bar. But it is not for last orders. The pub shed frowns on last orders. The bell behind the bar in the pub shed signals the beginning, freedom and shots.

7. Spending Time At Home. Many people often worry about their partners going to the pub. Well, a pub shed brings an end to all of that. Spending time at home? You are! You’re in the garden enjoying your home’s latest feature. Pub sheds can also add value to your home. Admittedly nobody has researched this, but if I went to view a house and it had a pub shed, I would definitely pay more for it.

November 5, 2011
7 Reasons I Ended Up Appearing Quite Mad Yesterday (Even Though I’m Not)

Sometimes, when you’re sitting around, minding your own business, an event occurs. An event to which you are compelled to react. And, while your reaction is brilliantly conceived and perfectly rational, a chain of events ensues that eventually makes you appear irredeemably, unutterably, stupendously mad. Like yesterday.

This is not my neighbour's cat, nor is it my cat, nor is it my wall. This cat on a wall is from the internet.

While I was writing, a cat appeared on the six foot high wall at the bottom of my garden. One of next door’s cats. Now, I don’t want any of next door’s cats in my garden, because it’s where my cat lives. I want him to be able spend his time in the garden sleeping, licking, and staring at the gate unmolested by other cats. So I had to let the other cat know that he wasn’t welcome in our garden. Now I know how to scare a cat; it’s easy. But going outside and hissing and shouting at this cat wasn’t going to convey the right message. I needed to let the interloper know he was in another cat’s territory, and that he should stay away.

1. Plan A. I went and fetched my dozing cat from the sofa. My cat didn’t want to know. I showed him the intruder through the dining room window. He saw the other cat and ignored him. This was disappointing. This isn’t going to scare anyone I thought, as my cat fell asleep on the windowsill. This wouldn’t even scare mice. Nervous mice.

2. Plan B. Right, I thought. If the sight of my cat asleep on the windowsill isn’t enough to strike the fear of god into the intruder, I’ll have to escalate things. I’ll have to send my cat out to deal with him. I woke him up, reminded him of the presence of the other cat and carried him into the utility room. I placed him on the floor, next to his cat-flap; I delivered a rousing speech to him and then opened it so that he could sally forth to dispatch his foe. He didn’t move. He sat and purred at me. I tried to usher him through his flap, but he clearly wasn’t going to go. My cat, I thought, is a disappointment.

3. Plan C. I know, I’ll open the back door really loudly. If I can’t scare him away with a cat, then at least opening the door loudly will make the intruder run; and my cat might conceivably think that he’s the one causing him to flee in terror and emerge with feline dignity intact and be that bit braver next time. As loudly as I could, I unlocked the door and, with as much speed and force as I could muster, I heaved the door open. I was rewarded with the sight of a terror-stricken cat, fleeing for its life. Bugger, I thought, as I went to retrieve him from behind the sofa. This isn’t going well.

4. Plan D. I picked him up, returned to the utility room and carried him through the back door. “Look”, I said to the other cat, “I have a cat here and I’m not afraid to use him”. The other cat was not as moved by our presence as I had hoped that he would be. Impassively, he licked his paw and turned his head away.

5. Plan E. Okay, I clearly wasn’t being terrifying enough. I raised our cat above my head so that he was higher up than the cat on our wall. This will do it, I thought, there are only two things that can possibly go through the other cat’s mind. One: “Blimey! What the hell is that hideous giant cat/man hybrid creature over there, I’d better run for it”. Or two: “ Blimey! Look what that man’s doing to that feckless fat-cat from next door. I’m probably next. I’d better run for it.” But if these things went through his mind, he didn’t show it; unless this cat instinctively displays abject terror by blinking slowly, that is. I was going to have to get nearer.

6. Plan F. With my arms fully outstretched, cat held aloft, above my head; I charged toward the other cat. It didn’t move. I was closing quickly and when I got to within eight feet it still hadn’t moved.

7. Plan G. Realising that my charge wasn’t unnerving enough, I decided that I needed a war cry, and I began to roar (at a volume which surprised even me) as I charged through the garden. But the other cat still hadn’t moved, and I was almost upon it. I realised it needed a little more time to realise the desperate situation it was in, so I pulled away at the last moment to run a lap of my garden, still roaring and, as my cat and I rounded the top of the garden and turned to face the enemy once more I saw him react, startled, jump down from the wall and run. My jubilation was short lived. I also saw…

…My neighbour emerge from her back door, the sound of which had presumably – unbeknownst to her, as she couldn’t possibly have seen it – scared the other cat away. I slowed to a halt and stopped roaring. “Hi”, I said, breezily, realising I still had the cat above my head, and that I probably looked quite foolish.

“Er…Hi”, she replied.

I felt self-conscious, and it occurred to me that some sort of explanation of my behaviour was required. “I was just scaring the cat”.

“I’m not surprised”, she replied.

November 11, 2010
7 Reasons You Should Have A Music Festival In Your Garden

It’s Thursday! And to celebrate the day we present you with our third and final piece that was destined for the shelves inside Esquire, but didn’t quite make it.

1. Own Bed. No sleeping on the roughest terrain in history in a sleeping bag that is far too small for you. After the last act, you can just pop upstairs and collapse onto your dry, comfy mattress. And of course you won’t be woken by fifteen drunken idiots tripping over your guy-rope at 4am.

2. Bad Weather. If the British Summer decides to stick with tradition and deposit large amounts of water upon us each weekend, you can just move your festival indoors. No one gets wet, your girlfriend won’t moan that her make-up is running and you won’t spend the rest of the evening warning off blokes who have just noticed she isn’t wearing a bra.

3. Lost Belongings. There is nothing more sickening than waking up in your tent and realising that you lost your wallet and wedding ring last night. If you have your own festival though, there is no need to panic. Your wallet will be in the flower bed and your ring will be in next door’s cat. Your ring never ends up in next door’s cat at Glastonbury. Never. Though sometimes it is in next door’s cow.

4. Toilets. A customary hazard at festivals. You’re going to drink large quantities of lager – even if you don’t like the bloody stuff – and that means ending up in queue for the temple of bacteria that is the portaloo. What’s the point when at home you can use your clean bathroom? A bathroom that smells of your partner’s potpourri and doesn’t have 100 people waiting ahead of you. Unless you accidentally left your front door open, of course.

5. Prices. Let’s be honest, the admission price to stand in a field for three days is excessive. You could have driven to Estonia on a small motorbike for the cost of a burger and chips. And you always end up spending £10 on a novelty blow-up dolphin that has a slow-puncture. All in all, a waste of money. Have your festival at home and you can charge yourself sensible prices. And there’s more chance of having a puncture repair kit to hand too.

6. Better Yourself. Music festivals – despite the name – aren’t just about the music. There are workshops and craft stalls and clowns and people trying to get you to take part in yoga classes. Have a festival at home and you can do all these yourself. You can have a woodwork workshop that will involve you putting up those shelves that you have been meaning to do for six months. You can set up a stall and try to flog all your rubbish from the attic to unsuspecting neighbours. And you can take part in your own yoga class. Which will involve bending down to pick up another beer. And relax.

7. Dreadlocks. Most of the people at your home-festival won’t be pierced and be-dreadlocked. Unless, that is, you have dreadlocks and a piercing. In which case, what are you doing reading this bit? Go to the Fashion & Grooming section at once! In fact, did you steal this magazine?

September 9, 2010
7 Reasons to get an Archipod

This, in case you haven’t seen one before, is an archipod. It’s a home office that you can put in your garden. This is why you need one.

1. External Aesthetics. Look at it. Just look at it! It’s amazing. It’s a pod that looks like a giant beehive. It’s got a door that opens upwards like a DeLorean or a gull-wing Mercedes or a spaceship or something. It has a porthole. A porthole! It looks like the coolest thing in the world; the only things that could possibly improve it would be a searchlight and a diamond-tipped funnel made of titanium.

2. Internal Aesthetics. Inside, it looks like a cross between a Japanese capsule hotel, a Kubrickian spacecraft and an igloo. It’s got a porthole there too! And a semi-circular command station…er…desk. Did I mention how cool it looks?

3. Name. It’s called an archipod, which is a portmanteau word consisting of archi from architect and pod, which comes from pod. But look at what else it contains. It says ipod in the middle of it. This means that all Apple-obsessives, or most-of-my-friends, as I call them, will believe that it’s the most desirable thing in the world; more desirable than a suit of armour; more desirable than a yacht; more desirable than a Fender Telecaster; more desirable than Jennifer Aniston. It even looks like something Apple would make. But I want one too. So it must be better than anything by Apple. And it is, because it’s an archipod!

4. Price. I have absolutely no idea how much an archipod costs. But if they were asking for all of the money in the world I’m fairly certain that someone would have told me, and they haven’t, so it’s clearly a bargain that’s worth every penny.

5. Roundness. Now, I have to be honest: It’s not totally spherical, and that’s something of a disappointment. But if it was a pure sphere, it might roll away, and then you’d have to ask the neighbours if they’d seen your archipod and they’d say, “You have an archipod? Wow, that’s so cool!”. And you’d have to explain that no, you’d lost your archipod, and then you’d be the cretin who lost the archipod (coolest thing in the world) and you would become a social pariah; an object of ridicule; a veritable leper; the neighbourhood reject, cast out of decent society into a hellish solitude of eternal archipod-loss-induced squalor, damnation, misery and…sorry, I digress. Anyway, that the floor is flat is probably a good thing as the archipod will always be where you left it. The rest of it is round, which means that, unlike conventional offices, you can’t have a notice-board covered with dreary “motivational” posters on the wall and no one can put a half-dead pot plant in the corner, because there aren’t any. Corners that is. I have loads of half-dead pot plants if anyone needs one,

6. Foil. The archipod is insulated with foil and to many crazy people, this foil-lining would be seen as a desirable feature that would stop the gamma-rays affecting their brains. It may currently appear that I am one of them but I can assure you that the only things affecting my brain at the moment are the archipod and an espresso – a double archipod with sugar and a biscotti.

7. Inspiration. Here at 7 Reasons we know that there are always seven reasons for everything, but I can’t think of a seventh reason to get an archipod. This is because I’m writing this in a rectangular room full of books and a cat. If I were writing in cooler and more inspirational environs such as…let me see…an archipod, for example, I’d be able to think of one easily. Oh, there you go, that’s the seventh reason to get one. That’s the wondrous power of the archipod: Even thinking of one provides inspiration. Right, I’m off to put my family on ebay now* and to have a lie down.**

*Details on how you can contribute to the Buy The 7 Reasons Team An Archipod Fund will be available soon.

**There’s no particular reason to mark that, I just don’t feel that I’ve said archipod enough yet. Archipod. Archipod! IT’S THE ARCHIPOD! There, that’s better.

May 28, 2010
7 Reasons It’ll Be Great Under David & Nick

Yesterday I watched David and Nick in the garden. I don’t know about you, but I kind of liked it. I felt a sense of profound optimism. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I am deluded. Maybe my sense of profound optimism combined with my natural optimism has made me go completely loopy, but I think it might just work. I think it might just be great under Dave and Nick. And here’s why:

1. It’s In The Names. The meaning of David is beloved. The meaning of Nick is victory of the people. That sounds good to me. Incidentally the meaning of Gordon is large fortification. Which probably explains why it took so bloody long to get rid of him.

2. It’s In The Colours. Anyone who went to school and paid attention when they accidentally knocked over the blue and yellow paint bottles, will know that, when combined, they make green*. You know what this means. The environment. David and Nick are going to save us from Global Warming. Caroline Lucas must be furious.

3. It’s In The Hands. As luck would have it, David and Nick seem to favour opposite hands. As the above shows, David likes his right and Nick likes his left. This means of course that they have two spare hands that meet in centre ground. Genius.

4. It’s In The Hair. It may be May, but that means sod all in this country. The weather is still unpredictable/predictably rubbish. As I have pointed out, yesterday David and Nick were in the garden. The sun was out but it was chilly and a tad windy. Miraculously though, for forty minutes, their hair acted superbly. Not once did either of them so much as touch their coiffures. It was the kind of strong, stable hair that this country so badly needs.

5. It’s In The Wives. Neither Samantha or Miriam – that’s Mrs Cameron and Mrs Clegg if you are not on first name terms yet – seem particularly keen on the limelight. Which is good. Because they have a job to do. Run our country. Don’t be fooled, David and Nick don’t really know what they’re doing. And they are married men. Their wives tell them what to do. So for the next five years Great Britain will be run by a creative director and a Spanish lawyer. Mandelson and Campbell, eat your hearts out.

6. It’s In The Looks. It’s quite useful that they are called the cabinet because that is what most of them look like. And so they should. It’s brains you need in politics, not beauty. The last thing we need is for Theresa May to be distracted by a six figure sum to pose naked for Playboy or for Ken Clarke to get his braces off for the centre-fold of Cosmopolitan. Thankfully – for all our sakes – that isn’t going to happen. It’s going to be all work and no play for David and Nick’s boys. And girl.

7. It’s In The Logos. No one in the world has picked up on this yet. But that is why I am me and the rest of you do interesting things with your time. The Conservative logo is a tree. The Liberal Democrat logo is a bird. Birds like trees. It’s where they live. You couldn’t make this stuff up. If this coalition was destined to fail the Liberal Democrat logo would have been an axe. But it’s not. It’s a bird. And David has let it into his foliage. Bravo.

*Yes, if it is pure blue and pure yellow it would turn black, but that’s the point. It’s a coalition. All purity has been thrown out of the window.

NB: I might not believe all of the above nonsense.

May 13, 2010