These are the things I do when my husband is away.
The potting shed can barely fit a pot, much less allow for actual potting to take place within its walls. It has become the dumping ground for everything and I think that I am the only person who actually tries to step into it. Everyone else just dumps it all at the door. Things routinely would fall from above on me. Not pleasant, not pleasant at all. Especially if you were in earshot of me when something fell on me.