Why join a Men's Shed?

Why not? Are you a male over 18? You don’t have to be retired to be a member because
the Shed is for all men from all backgrounds and skills. We have a healthy sense of humour
but sexism, racism, and bad language are not accepted.  Helensburgh Men’s Shed is a safe
and friendly place, one of over 1,200 sheds in Australia, where any man can come and find
something useful to do with other blokes. 
 Do you need skills to join a Shed? All you need is enthusiasm and a will to give it a go,

Kids Korner Block Box

1998 was an excellent year. It was the year that Gilbert and Patricia De Vincenzo
changed their lives and their young familys direction and bought Kids Korner Preschool on
Laurina Avenue in the Burgh. Gilbert had worked as a Telstra engineer for many years and
was looking for a new chapter in his familys life. 
And since Gilbert and Patricias daughters Lisa and Yvette were involved in Primary
and Early Childhood teaching, the match with Kids Korner was understandable. And this

The Pentridge Cruiser

John Bucknell. Ace wood carver, teller of martini-dry jokes, and always up for a story
over a cuppa and an Anzac or two. A few years back, JB brought his bedraggled pond yacht
into the Mens Shed. This little boat, about 50cm long, made of timber and various bits of tin,
had been made by an inmate at Pentridge Prison in the 1960s and gifted to 6-year-old John
through his father, William, a warden at the gaol.
But now? Oh dear. The mast and rigging were askew, the steering missing vital parts,
and the sails limp and tired.

Ugly Duckling - or Beauty under the Calico?

We get regular commissions to carry out at your Men’s Shed. Tables that wobble,
man-cave signs to engrave, wonky wheeled toys to persuade straight again, and treasures to
uncover beneath decades of yuck. 
We were ready when Alice brought a piano stool she had bought at a bargain price
from a well-known antique store. Loose legs? Reattached and firm for more fortissimos and
then polished. But that calico covering! All torn at one corner and, frankly, puzzling.
Carefully removing the rough material, Bruce and Michael discovered exquisite

Julie's Garden Seat

Fifty-seven years ago. That’s both a long, and a short, time.
57 years in this little town we call the Burgh. Imagine the changes. The little white
house behind the pub, the walls chuckling at the sound of another baby born. Coal fires in the
Metter, warming a Struggle Town miners’ cottage. Lilyvale’s railway station - gone! The Co-
op. Crawchie Day. Mrs. Braggs wool emporium. Holidays in a shack down at Bulgo. A dip in
the big dam after school. Horses tied up outside the shops. Ladies in white at the Bowling
Club. The Band Hall burning down.

The Walk to save your men

What is that noise?
That clanging, bongoing, and scratching?
It's enough to wake the dead!
We were walking along Cemetery Road, a motley group of men, women, and Peppa
the Pig (dog). There was a bongo drum, indeed. Maracca's, tambourines (we had a Salvo's
connection). And the infamous scratchy ball instrument played by our leader and Shed Health
Officer Ron Balderston. 
Why were we walking, on this starlit Friday evening, turning left onto Walker Street

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