Building the Shed — Building Us
Journal Reflection, October 20, 2025
It’s been six weeks since I last wrote, and in that time, Clare and I have lived through something big. Not a holiday. Not a retreat. A build. A proper, muddy-boots, sore-hands, long-days kind of build....a 20 × 10 metre shed that now stands proud on our property.
Nineteen full days of work. Sunburn, dust, arguments that fizzled as quick as they sparked, and a surprising number of laughs. We lined, clad, squared, and lifted it all ourselves, with a bit of help from Lachlan and Dad when they could manage it. Dad’s mobility isn’t what it was, and Lachie’s still finding his strength, but their effort meant the world. Mum kept us fed and watered and I think I put on 5 kilos with her food! They were part of the story.
Mostly, though, it was Clare and me. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure how that would go. We’ve always been strong partners in the bigger sense...in life, in parenting, in the tough calls....but we’d never built something together from the ground up. I worried our different rhythms would clash. She’s detail-driven, I’m momentum-driven. She thinks ahead, I charge in.
But before we even picked up a tool, we made a pact: ground rules. Clear leadership on each task, respectful communication, and a promise to pull up if one of us started stepping over the other’s lane. It sounds simple, but it changed everything.
Once the first sheets went up, it clicked. Clare’s precision met my drive halfway, and instead of grinding against each other, we started moving like a team. Watching her work....methodical, steady, unflappable....I realised I’d underestimated how capable she is when she’s in her element.
Now the shed stands solid, like it’s always belonged here. The last few days it’s been raining....proper, heavy rain....and we’ve moved inside with the caravan. It’s dry. Still. Cool. The sound of rain on the tin is a kind of music that settles the soul. Clare’s already setting up an outdoor kitchen, the boys are dragging chairs around, and the space has begun to take shape as more than just a shelter.
Two nights ago, we pulled in the lounge chairs and TV, ordered Thai takeaway, and ate at our table....our first meal together inside this new space. After dinner we all piled onto the lounge, the kids laughing, Clare leaning back into me, the rain tapping the roof. It was the first time in a long while that we’d had the space to just be a family. No tension, no tight quarters, just warmth.
It felt like home. Not the dream house we’re still building toward, but home all the same. That moment....cheap Thai food, family laughter, tired muscles....was worth every sheet of cladding and every dropped screw.
What I Learned About Us
I learned that predictability and planning don’t kill spontaneity.....they create the space for it. Clare thrives on knowing what’s coming, not because she’s rigid, but because it helps her give her best. Once she had that clarity, she was incredible. I learned that if I give her room to lead, she’ll fill that space with strength and precision.
And for me, stepping back was new territory. My instinct has always been to take control, to protect, to direct.....it’s what’s made me good at my job and steady in crises. But when I let Clare lead certain parts, I felt something rare for me.....ease. I didn’t have to hold every detail. I could just work. It reminded me that leadership isn’t always about being in front; sometimes it’s about creating the conditions where others can thrive.
What It Built in Me
This shed taught me that partnership isn’t two people working side by side....it’s two people moving with the same intention, even if they’re taking different paths to get there. I’ve always been comfortable with the grind, but I’ve realised grind doesn’t have to mean carrying it all yourself. Clare is every bit as capable as I am ....maybe more, in her way....and trusting that has been strangely liberating.
What It Built for the Family
The boys saw us building, laughing, arguing, and resolving. They saw us tired but still showing up. I think, or at least I hope, they saw what partnership looks like when it’s healthy....shared effort, mutual respect, and humour in the cracks. Lachlan got a front-row seat, lugging tools, passing screws, learning without realising it. The younger boys might not remember every nail, but they’ll remember the feeling....that their parents could build something big and still laugh through it.
What the Shed Symbolises
This shed isn’t just a building. It’s the first solid anchor on our land....a place to store our things, to work, to lift, to play. It’s a reminder that we can build our life with our own hands, together. One day it’ll hold a gym, music gear, maybe a space where the boys and their friends can hang out. For now, it’s a symbol of security and movement....proof that our life is taking shape.
What I’d Tell Anyone Starting Their Own Build
Talk. Honestly. Repeatedly. Make sure you and your partner are fully aligned....on the plan, the responsibilities, the budget, and the timeline. Talk through how you’ll handle frustration before it shows up. And agree to check yourselves when you start to drift into each other’s lane. If you can do that, the build becomes more than work....it becomes connection.
Reflection Questions for You
- When you take on something big with someone you love, do you plan the relationship side as carefully as the logistics?
- Where in your life could you step back and let someone else’s capability shine?
- What’s your version of the shed....the thing you could build that might anchor both progress and togetherness?
- Do you mistake control for leadership, or can you see the strength in sharing the reins?
- When was the last time you truly felt home....and what created that feeling?
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