Given a choice of home improvements, I think I'd opt for a loft conversion or a conservatory.

Small change really when you consider the folk who feel a house is not a home without the addition of a swimming pool, tennis court and stables.

Yet compared with mine, The Mother's aspirations are even more mundane.

What she has set her heart on is a garden shed.

At an age when many of her contemporaries are content to watch the world go by from the comfort of their armchairs, The Mother is still alarmingly active, particularly in the garden.

Not only does she dig and hoe but she's now planning a small pathway at the back that will start at the patio and finish at the top (or is it the bottom?) of the garden.

It will lead, she says, to a shed where she will keep all her gardening paraphernalia.

I suspect it's also going to be a place where she'll withdraw periodically for an undisturbed session with the radio and her friends, Benson and Hedges.

I can see it now. A rustic wooden cabin, the door ajar and from within, the sound of Woman's Hour and smoker's cough.

What shall we call this little haven? Dun Smoking is obviously a non-starter but how about Mon Nicotine . . .?

Back to reality. The Mother has collected a stack of brochures featuring garden sheds of every description. I never knew there were so many choices.

There are sheds with one window and sheds with four; sheds with single doors and sheds with double doors and antique style hinges. There are sheds with sloping roofs and sheds with flat roofs; sheds that look like outside privies and sheds that wouldn't look out of place in the grounds of Buckingham Palace.

Some sheds will obviously hold no more than a garden spade and a thin man, while others look as if they could accommodate an escape party from Weight Watchers.

More importantly, there are sheds costing £55 and sheds costing nearly £700.

In some of the brochures there are instructions on building your shed. Most advise a minimum of two people to work on the project. But what two people are they thinking of?

Surely not a woman of 80 and her daughter who won't see 50 again?

There are also warnings about disturbing underground cables and pipes when you dig out an area of garden for the shed's base. Then, if you've got this far, come the words (somewhat superfluous in my opinion) 'Seek Expert Advice If Necessary'.

But The Mother is undeterred. A shed is what this house needs, she says, pointing out that all our neighbours have sheds and we are thus disadvantaged. Funny, but I never imagined getting a garden shed as a means of keeping up with the Joneses.

"Well, I suppose it will give you something to do," I mutter, which is NOT something you should say to a woman who has just spent two hours on her knees massacring dandelions on your behalf.

So, feeling it's time to take her plan seriously, I spend the weekend (well, an hour of it) looking through The Mother's collected shed literature.

I actually come across one I like. It has neat green shutters on the windows and a matching green trim on the sloping roof.

"It's a playhouse!" The Mother snaps when I show her the picture.

"I know, but it's very sweet," I say.

"You could live in it and it would certainly suit you.

"Look, it even has a little chimney . . ."