I am told that in ten days Shredtropolis will be complete. Not ten consecutive days you understand; Mr Rixon is a busy man and has other responsibilities. His day job for example, and his children. However, ten full days of labour should be all it takes for him to finish building his seventh – yes seventh – shed in the complex that has become known as ‘Shedtropolis’.

It began soon after we moved into our house two years ago. We nearly didn’t buy it because it does not have a garage. Aside from being a very busy man, you see, Mr Rixon is an extremely noisy one. So, a garage was considered essential for him to make said noise in, namely, playing the drums and making things out of wood, without disturbing the neighbours. However, what the house did have was a large shed on the front driveway and plenty of space to accommodate more. And so, the foundations for Shedtropolis were laid…

The original shed is now known as Shed 5 and has been fully refurbished with a new roof, door and walls, raising the philosophical question: ‘Is it still the same shed?’ What is unquestionable is that it is no longer alone, but now stands as the largest shed in an archipelago of sheds on the front driveway, serving various functions, from carpentry workshop to firewood storage, and making it considerably harder to turn the car around.

One might have hoped that the shed-building would stop there, but even I could see that we needed a regular garden potting shed. Residing in the back garden, Shed 6 is a simple but sturdy flatpack structure and houses a lawn mower alongside the usual assortment of garden tools. Its neighbour, Shed 7, is currently under construction and will be the crowning glory of Shedtropolis, serving as a music studio, outdoor office and guest accommodation.

Mr Rixon has spent the last eight months building Shed 7 by hand from reclaimed materials and wood from the local sawmill. It has been a project boardering on obsession. (See what I did there?) When he has finally finished, he will not only have built himself a complex of seven sheds for different purposes but also paid homage to his favourite nineties indie band, which is of course, Shed Seven. Hence, the record-shaped door signs.

But will he be truly finished? Mr Rixon cannot possibly exceed the number seven if he wants Shedtropolis to remain a tribute to the band Shed Seven. But I have a nagging concern. Shed 2 has two doors, one labelled Shed 2a and the other Shed 2b. What if this becomes a trend? What if some sheds sprout up subsidiary sheds or lose their shed status altogether? The potential number of sheds then becomes almost endless…

I simply cannot allow this to happen. I must have some green space. I need to grow flowers and veggies and create a space for nature. And the children and cats need somewhere outside to play. Perhaps, if Mr Rixon won’t listen to me, he will listen to his musical heroes. So, I implore the members of Shed Seven – Rick, Paul, Tom, Tim and Maxi – to think of the wildlife and the children and tell Mr Rixon to ‘flat-pack it in and off-cut it out’.

Mr Rixon’s skill at woodwork is not always a cause of consternation. It has resulted in some very fine and useful pieces of furniture, both in and outside the house. Take this lovely fitted mid-century style cupboard for example. We couldn’t find a cabinet that fitted the space or looked right next to the arts and crafts fireplace, so I simply commissioned him to make one.

Then there’s this rather marvellous recycling unit in the kitchen occupying the space of an old Rayburn oven. Mr Rixon used a scroll saw to create the lettering and globe handle, and our girls painted them. I worried at first that filling our late Victorian home with hand-made modern furniture would be sacrilegious, but I now think that is in keeping with the arts and crafts spirit of the house.

We also have this lovely picnic table for eating al fresco on sunny days; this climbing frame cleverly built on the steep hillside of our lawn and this rustic Wendy house which looks like it has been nestled into a corner of the garden for decades and of which Gertrude Jekyll would be proud.

Perhaps, if Shed Seven fail me, I can appeal to you. Perhaps, you would like Mr Rixon to craft you something fine and useful out of wood for your home or garden? Having other things to build might just divert his one-plank mind away from his worrying shed-session.