I have a major problem with sniggering when it comes to the latest must-have. I have to admit that the she-shed/lady lodge/woman cave just sounds like a bunch of euphemisms for down-belows to me and worthy of an undignified snigger every time.
Having said that, I fully admire the concept.
Apparently, women have watched the rise of the man cave and thought: “I would like a piece of that little house in the garden action for myself.
“It may be a shed when he uses it but I will make mine into a wondrous tiny house where I can unwind/work/do self-improvement hobbies away from the watchful eyes of my family.”
Presumably this increase in garden rooms (I can’t write she-shed again) has coincided with the rise in home-working.
According to a male friend who had a “home office” erected at the bottom of his garden, they are constructed in a day and can be a cost-effective alternative to adding an extension to your home if you need extra office space. We are not to refer to it as a wendy house.
While admiring the concept, I fear such a construction would not be entirely appropriate for me, having spent a large part of my childhood involved in girls vs boys turf wars over tree houses and other outdoor dens.
As far as I am concerned, a garden room is somewhere where a bunch of small boys will congregate with a stash of cigarettes, conkers and mucky magazines.
They will then set about making the den impregnable, with a series of deadly obstacles to anyone approaching who might be foolish enough to try and gain entrance. Passwords obligatory.
There has been a rash of these garden rooms springing up recently near Penman Towers and I like to think there are husbands nursing dead legs and black eyes after a particularly well thought out obstacle has been deployed as they approach with a cup of tea, calling out possible passwords while their wife sits in a yoga position inside, enjoying a glass of wine and a wee chuckle.