Did you know Denis and Melva Howard got zapped by a lightning strike in their motor home? Blew all the electrics out, took six months to get bits in from Germany to fix it. Nasty!  

Then a tree fell on that truck. True!

It’s jinxed. Personally, I would sell it. Let someone else deal with the demons.

Then Denis got to shake hands with Muhammad Ali, a true GOAT, when he visited The Hutt in 1979. Yep, he shook the very same right hand that clobbered George Foreman in the Rumble in the Jungle. Memorable!

Denis remembers the handshake didn’t quite pack the same firepower as the punch. “Limp lettuce” is how he described it.

A man in his shed

You learn this interesting stuff when you sit down with a man in his shed in the backyard. It’s his comfortable place, loosens his tongue, he reveals a bit of himself.

“The shed’s not somewhere I go to contemplate, or reflect,” says the pragmatic retired builder, hotelier, huntsman, angler and motor home nomad.

“It’s full of gear, useful stuff.” Hammers, chisels, screwdrivers, drill bits, drills, leads – seems like 10 of everything. “I need all this. I use it all.”

Why does a man need 10 screw drivers?

Then there’s three or four storage cupboards chocka with stuff..and a big attic with an overflow of stuff ….material, matter and articles of an unspecified and indeterminate kind. But all useful.

But why this this shed? Why this couple? Why today? Cos I was told Denis and Melva Howard’s little green shed was ‘cute’, was worth a visit and I missed it on Katikati’s Sheds & Studios Ramble. But apparently about 300 people didn’t miss it on the day. “We were gobsmacked,” says Melva. “They didn’t stop coming.”

A hoot!

Probably word got out about the couple – they’re entertainment in themselves – full of stories, full of laughs, they’re a hoot.

And their house, a tranquil retreat nestled amongst the kiwifruit orchards, just over a ford down Rea Rd, would be worth an admission fee in itself. You could easily fossick and nose around their patch for a therapeutic hour before you even get to the shed.

“People just loved being here – the shed, the setting, a bit of both,” says Denis.  

Those same people even stuck their noses into the storage cupboards.  Nosiness knows no bounds.

But at risk of sounding churlish, the shed is very unremarkable, very underwhelming.

“Show me something interesting Denis, something with wow factor, something standout.”
Denis is not offended. “There’s nothing really.”

It’s a shed. Not a museum or a gallery. Not one object d’art, not one curio, not one “what’s this?” kind of thing that you find in sheds.

“It’s an honest shed, an honest backyard garden shed,” is how Denis explains his shed. He’s right. And therein lies its attraction.

It’s small – 2.4m by 2.4m or 5.76m2. Compare that to another Katikati shed on the ramble – 298m2, the size of two new home builds. Denis just ‘pfffs’. One has size and industry, the other has charm and intimacy and fascination.

And there’s no demarcation here. It might be Denis’s shed but Melva has full and free visiting rights.

“And I did make the curtain,” says Melva.

“But I am not allowed to put anything in there.” That has nothing to do with violating his space, but everything to do with the availability of space. Basically, there’s not enough of it.

Own fascination

Melva has her own fascination for sheds.

“I have a stack of photos of sheds I have shot around the country. Old sheds, broken down old sheds.What went on there? Who was involved there? They each have their own story. It’s fascinating.”

And when she finally retires, when she’s over meeting and greeting for the Katikati Sheds & Studios Ramble, when she’s finished fundraising for the Katikati’s Abbeyfield housing model, she might just start sketching those old sheds in charcoal.

Thanks for sharing guys. It was a delightful two hours of banter and bonhomie, well worth the romp out to ‘Kati’.

Know of an interesting shed, know some interesting people who do interesting things in those sheds.

Let us know. Email: hunter@thesun.co.nz