The Shed magazine August/September 2026 issue 128 on sale now
Sentimental Journey
Jack Ryder had a unique ability to hypnotise sports stars, politicians, and celebrities into donating items for his museum and sports memorabilia collection. Now, his grandson Clint manages this West Auckland landmark, but the property development vultures are circling.
It is hard to imagine a less likely location for a living museum than the back blocks of suburban West Auckland in Avondale.
Yet here, towards the end of a lengthy no-through road, the Ryder family hold tight to a self-built vestige of Auckland’s yesteryear. While the surrounding streets are turned into homogeneous multi-unit town housing, the Ryders’ two-acre slice of Pavlova Paradise remains, less a multi-generational home ground and more a celebration of the character of the city’s past.
Slipping through the tall white gates past the twin concrete lion sentinels at the street end of Ryder’s long hedge-lined driveway, the modern world slips away. Ahead, in the shade of a 100-year-old Pecan tree, an enclave of antique edifices opens out along the back-fence line like a set from a period movie. This corner of vintage Kiwiana is the handiwork of the late and industrious Jack Ryder, a coach-builder and wharfie, who began constructing it from a group of sheds spread across the property.
Building a dead man’s switch
Routers, power and cut-off saws, as well as angle grinders, can all inflict very nasty injuries in a fraction of a second. I can still remember nearly breaking my wrist many years ago when a heavy electric hand drill, fitted with a one-inch drill bit, decided it was time for me to revolve instead of it! A foot- operated cut-off switch would have been just the ticket on that occasion.
The dead man’s switch, as I will call it, is a simple device fitted in between the power supply and the operating equipment that requires a foot kept on it at all times for power to be supplied from the source to the equipment.
As it will undoubtedly spend a lot of its time on hard floors and possibly uneven surfaces, it needs to be robust as well as big enough to accommodate your foot comfortably. It should also be rugged and well protected from the scuffs and knocks it will undoubtedly suffer over the years.
You’ve got mail
In a world beset by increasing regulations, building codes, local government bylaws, vehicle safety legislation, and the like, very few things remain untouched by the long, deadening arm of bureaucracy. However, one that has escaped is the humble mailbox.
While their suburban cousins have generally succumbed to the pressure to have standardised, mass-produced models available from hardware chain stores, their rural brethren have maintained their diversity, and still reflect their owners’ creativity and imagination.
In this era of increasing conformity, the rural mailbox stands out as a statement of individuality made by those of us unwilling to follow the common herd. Although postal services worldwide are coming under continued pressure from the new delivery platforms, the mailbox is still an integral part of any property, rural or suburban. A good mailbox should be thought of as a fine example of street art, a whimsical statement by its owners perhaps reflecting their passions and interests, while fulfilling a utilitarian function.
Content categories
Videos
