Took a ramble over to readersheds.co.uk a few days ago, and my how they’ve grown!

What began as a bit of fun at the end of the garden has mushroomed into an internet phenomenon with forums, blogs, celebrity involvement, merchandising, flickr groups, and, I kid you not, TV shedcasts (yea!)

Uncle Wilco, the man behind the site, has just issued a call to all sheddies to enter 2009’s Shed of the Year competition …  if you love your shed, all you have to do is visit the site, upload two pics and you’re in.

Last year’s winner, Tim’s octagonal pub-in-a-shed extravaganza, provoked a great deal of drooling shed envy - as, of course, do the various Tardis sheds currently on the site (pic below).

But maybe you have something better at the end of your garden?

If so, you’ll have to convince this year’s judges: Sarah “there aren’t enough sheds in the world” Beeny; Trevor “I invented the wind-up radio in my shed” Bayliss, and, err, Chris “I have shed loads of money” Evans.

While you’re over at the site check out the shedblog, where you can read all about a man who buried his father under the garden shed … but not before he’d dressed the dearly departed as a sheikh. As you do.

Shedfolk. Gotta love em!

From the latest Hometrack report … while they rightly caution against calling the bottom of the market, this is an interesting trend:

This is getting more stressful and more complicated by the day.

I’ve been to do the mortgage bit and am thanking my parents for drumming into me the horrors of debt.

After a couple of seconds of nervous nail biting, the credit check returned a green flashing ‘accept’ sign and I am clean as a whistle (well, kind of).

But who to go with? Which deal is best? And how much shopping around should I do? (And let’s be honest, it’s not like proper shopping, is it…)

The lady at Nationwide was called Jane so thought that was a good sign but know I must NOT decide on mortgage lender based solely on financial consultant’s name…

I have been back for a second viewing and was unsure how I was going to feel about the flat, but the new love butterflies are still very much there and I am feeling really, really excited. I want this flat!

It’s got the perfect heart/head combo. I want to be there (heart) and I am confident it’s a sensible buy too (head). I feel out of my depth though with all this cliff-hanging negotiation, paper work and financial stuff.

At the moment I’m trying to work out my next move based on the cost of the vendor having to extend the lease (leasehold - who’s bright idea was that?) but I’m also fighting against an investor, who I wish would just go away (shoo, shoo!)

How typical that my ‘no chain, attractive buyer’ status would usually put me in the Naomi Campbell league, but up against this very annoying cash-rich shark I feel more like Posh Spice trying to hang out with Hollywood’s A-list.

And on top of my loss of attractiveness (which I’m trying not to take personally), I still need to find someone to give me a ‘gift’ to bump up the deposit.

Need some extra cash and fast! Clean answers on a postcard…

Just as Jane has kicked off a diary of her house buying adventures, I thought I’d be regaling you for weeks to come with tales of woe as I searched for a rented home.

But no!  Call it luck, call it fate, call it an over-saturated rental market – hell, call it whatever you like, I don’t care - because my other half and I have only gone and signed a 12-month contract on the second place we viewed.

We even managed to negotiate a monthly discount – result!

Now this may not sound that astounding to some people, but believe me, having danced this particular jig around various suburbs of Brighton on several occasions, I know from experience that it’s normally a far more complicated and frustrating routine.

But not this time.  No siree. This time we could easily have picked any one of the three places we looked at last weekend.

So, unless we’ve just been dreadfully unlucky in the past, I’m guessing it must have something to do with all those ‘reluctant landlords’ out there.  Thanks chaps, much appreciated!

However, happy as I am with our future abode and relieved that the search for it was so painless, I still really, really, really, REALLY don’t want to move out of my current much-loved home.

Indeed, Sussex residents may yet see me on South Today come the end of February.  I’ll be the one chained to a roof terrace doing a first-rate impression of Munch’s The Scream.

Calling all renters: how have you been finding the lettings market in your area? Send us your stories! Landlords: we’d like to hear your side of things too.

Where do I start with this? Monty’s cottage, from ‘Withnail and I’ - one of the most quoted films EVER - is up for auction by Savills on 16th February.

It’s starting price is £145,000 but you just know it’s going to go through the roof as rich movie geeks get all misty eyed at the prospect of owning such a classic location and reach for their wallets.

If you’re interested then the particulars for the cottage are as follows… or at least they would be if I was writing the blurb.

Ok, I lie, it’s just a weak ruse to quote such fine lines as:

Withnail: This place is uninhabitable.
Marwood: Give it a chance. It’s got to warm up.
Withnail: Warm up? We may as well sit round this cigarette. This is ridiculous. We’ll be found dead in here next spring.
(Needs Some Renovation)

or

Withnail: This place has become impossible. Nothing to eat, freezing cold and now a madman on the prowl outside with eels.
(A Welcoming Community)

or

Monty: “Here. Hare. Here.”
(Local Produce Available)

or …

I could go on, but it would only end in me quoting the entire film.

Whoever eventually buys it should just leave the place as is and offer Withnail themed weekend breaks marketed as “A Delightful Weekend in the Country”; complete with local actors paid to threaten guests with eels, or throw them out of tea shops, or burst into their bedrooms at night wearing naught but a silk dressing gown and a hungry look…

New year, new life, etc so after I recovered from the turkey fest I decided 2009 was going to be the year when I finally bought my own place.

But several weeks in and this whole flat hunting business is starting to feel like my love life – complicated.

At least 10 flats have taken my fancy since I started but last week I finally came across one that gave me that excited, butterflies-in-the-stomach, first date feeling.

But as with dating, so with flat-hunting: I smiled, put my first ever offer in on the place yesterday (which was scary and exciting) and then … sob! … I was turned down.

I’m trying not to take it personally; maybe we’re just not meant to be together? But still…

After a sleepless night wondering what to do next and picturing myself in a place that is mine (all mine!) I’ve resolved to pick myself up, dust myself off and get back in the game.

But is this the right move? Could I be making the worst financial decision of my life? Should I wait and see what the market does over the next couple of months? How much should I offer next? Can Kirstie and Phil please come and help me?

One thing is for sure, there’s a lot of interest in the flat – well, it’s got charm, good looks, all its own teeth – so they definitely won’t be calling me.

And with all this game playing and the possibility of more rejection to come, would I not be better to conclude that there are plenty of other fish in the sea and just move on?

Decisions, decisions! I’ll be keeping you posted.  Wish me luck…

Maybe it’s because I’m a curmudgeonly old misanthrope (no, no don’t protest, it’s true) but I’ve always fancied the idea of living on an island.

The only thing stopping me is a slight lack of cash, because unless I fancy a midge infested rock in some Canadian great lake, then the more salubrious islands are way out of my meagre financial reach.

They’re just over the horizon - taunting me with their swaying palm trees and coconuts and monkeys and parrots and pirates and treasure and … (drifts off into childhood Treasure Island daydream)

(Some time later …) However lack of money isn’t an issue if you follow the example of Richie Sowa. You may have already heard of him, or at least his ‘Spiral Island‘ project.

In the late nineties he built himself a floating island off the coast of Mexico with loads of plastic bottles, buckets of sand and a bunch of mangroves to help hold the whole thing together.

(Now the cynics amongst you may argue that this isn’t strictly an island, it’s a raft with pot plants. For shame! If the man wants to call it an island, let him call it an island.)

Unfortunately in 2005 the island got into a fight with a hurricane and lost, ending up washed on a beach like so much flotsam.

But did that deter our derring-do eco islander? No sir it did not! Like so many great British eccentrics he dusted himself off and got right on with building another bigger, better island (with a little help from like-minded volunteers).

And so Spiral Island II was born and sits (bobs?) pretty, sticking two fingers up to passing hurricanes and providing a shining example of what you can achieve with a crazy dream, some string and a shedload of plastic bottles. Just look at it! It’s amazing!

Video may take a while to start - please be patient.
Find more videos like this on Richie Sowa’s Spiral Island II Social Connector

So I’m going to do it too. In best Blue Peter stylee, armed with nothing more than double sided sticky tape, washing up liquid bottles and a few spider plants I’m going to build my own island in the local duckpond*.

Admittedly it’s hardly the azure waters of Mexico, but at least I won’t have to worry about hurricanes - just the odd abusive drunk - plus the Co-op is just round the corner for essential supplies.

(*Note: this will never happen)

George Monbiot, Guardian columnist, green campaigner and the chattering classes’ favourite eco luvvie, has suddenly gone completely mad and declared war on … the Aga.

Now look George, I have to tell you, it’s all well and good getting shirty about Terminal 5, recycling, Shell, etc, but quite another to start criticising the lifestyles of media types who wouldn’t be caught dead with a plastic shopping bag.

Monbiot turns the knife by claiming that most middle class greens would look down their noses at a patio heater while happily nuking the environment with their four door industrial warhorse in the kitchen.

“A large Aga running on coal turns out 9 tonnes of carbon dioxide per year: five and a half times the total CO2 production of the average UK home. To match that, the patio heater would have to burn for 9 months.

“So where is the campaign against Agas? There isn’t one.

“I’ve lost count of the number of aspirational middle-class greens I know who own one of these monsters and believe that they are somehow compatible (perhaps because they look good in a country kitchen) with a green lifestyle. The campaign against Agas - which starts here - will divide rich greens down the middle.”

Bloody hell, George, hasn’t anyone told you: the middle classes, they don’t like it up ‘em (and, err, by the way, Agas can run on oil and leccy, and they’re working on a biofuel model. Are you sure you have this right?)

Keep this up, George, and you’ll be getting perfectly punctuated missives from the Aga liberation front promising to roast you in goose fat and serve you up on a bed of organically grown curly kale.

You’ve bitten off more than you can chew here matey, mark my words: just check out the list of sleb Aga owners over on the Aga website. It’s formidable!

Then there’s the untold army of Aga devotees to tap into on This is My Aga.  Not to mention Joanna Trollope and the WI…

George, George, George, please, be sensible: stick to slagging off Easy Jet and Tesco or you’ll never eat a traditionally cooked supper in this town (or country) again.

Sarah Beeny, in typically forthright style, says she wouldn’t miss being on the goggle box, but her old man might be a bit miffed:

“I still don’t like the lack of privacy that goes with it. I’ve been on television for the past seven years, which is incredible really. My husband would mind though.

“I was a right minger before I was on telly because I spent my life in overalls on building sites. Now I actually wear make-up and get my hair done.”

Frankly, and despite the scurrilous comments from Toasted Teacake on a previous post, we find this hard to believe, though we definitely do believe her when she says a lot of the people on Property Ladder are barking:

“Most of them have no idea what they are doing. They are merely indulging their supposed interior-design flair. Believe me, it’s the most expensive hobby you could have. You might as well own a racehorse.”

You can read the full interview over on The Observer website.

Head to C4 for details of the latest series of Property Ladder. While you’re over there check out their fun quiz: Which Property Presenter Are You?

Apparently I’m Kevin McCloud  - a cool, eco conscious design guru. Yes, yes. Of course I am.

Well done to the FT’s excellent Alphaville blog for spotting an interesting chart in the Nationwide’s quarterly report – one that suggests house prices are just a hair’s breadth away from returning to their long-term trend.

The diagonal line is the long-term trend; the drunken squiggly one plots how house prices have deviated wildly from the straight and narrow.

Does this mean we’re close to the bottom? Well, as the graph reveals (1990-1996), prices tend to undershoot after they’ve soared. So we probably have a way to go yet.

Nationwide, in fairness, accept this: “Prices have further to fall before significant numbers of buyers will be willing to return to the market. But, as the market adjusts, property will start to look cheaper and this will encourage more activity.”

Just so. This is a graph worth keeping an eye on.