It was a bright Thursday evening when I pulled into the gravel driveway of a tucked-away workshop in the heart of Offaly. From the outside, the Men’s Shed looked like many others around Ireland – simple, practical, and quiet. But step inside, and you discover something far greater than timber and tools. You find laughter, warmth, and community.
I was welcomed with nods and smiles. Someone handed me a mug of tea before I’d even properly introduced myself. A large round table, scattered with mugs, scones and papers. The kettle boiled in the background while the conversation flowed.
My visit was intended to learn about the role the Shed plays in the lives of the men who gather there. What I came away with was a deep appreciation for something uniquely Irish: a space where men, many of them retired or semi-retired, come together not just to build or fix, but to connect.
A Place to Belong
‘’I wasn’t able to work around the house, had nothing to do. I went down to see what was going on. That’s how I came into it.’’ Says one member “I retired and went down to the shed, and never looked back” said another with a grin, to general laughter. It was a theme I heard again and again: the transition from full-time work to retirement can be jarring, but the Shed offers purpose, rhythm, and camaraderie.
Some came through word of mouth, others by accident. One man had been laid off and was looking for something to do with his time. Another had heard chatter over a garden fence. Many admitted they hadn’t really known what to expect – and were surprised to find not a place for jobs, but a place for joy.
Kieran Turley, the founder of Belmont Men’s Shed shares “Myself and a couple of other guys got together, and we started it. The sad thing about it is, the two lads who were with me — they’re gone now,” he added quietly, nodding toward the graveyard next door. “But that’s life. And the Shed goes on.”
No Pressure, Just People
There’s no clocking in or attendance sheet. “You come when you can, and if you can’t, no one’s asking questions,” says Kieran. ‘’If you have something on with your family or a neighbour, you don’t go to the Shed – and that’s fine. You’re not tied down.’’ It’s an open-door policy, shaped by empathy.
Some come for the woodwork, others for the tea. “It’s not all about work,” says Belmont local Noel Harte. “It’s the social. It’s about the kitchen, the chats, the tea bags.” Everyone laughed in agreement. In fact, one joked, “The most used tool in the Shed is the kettle.”
More Than a Hobby
The Shed isn’t just a hobby hub. It’s a lifeline. Members spoke of how the Shed helped them through health issues, grief, and isolation. “Some people would need a Shed more than others… anyone lacking in social activity – they need it for their mental health.”
Recent workshops covered topics like cooking, mental health, diabetes, and cancer awareness. They even do a weekly walk for those who prefer fresh air over sawdust. “There’s something for everyone,” says Kieran. “Even if it’s just sitting and listening.”
Crafting Connection
The group has taken on everything from canoe building to crafting school planter boxes and creating a replica of an old phone box for the local St. Patrick’s Parade. So
me have even become amateur beekeepers thanks to a Shed project. “We wouldn’t have done that if we hadn’t met here,” says Martin, another member. “It’s mad, really.”
They don’t advertise or seek the spotlight. They simply get on with it. Occasionally, the community reaches out – a school looking for help, a neighbour needing a hand. And they always show up.
The Heart of the Shed
Before I left, the tea had just been poured and someone suggested a quick game of Boccia — a sport I knew vaguely through my grandmother, who had travelled the world playing bowls. They play it here in the Shed every week, they told me, and before I knew it, I was playing on the blue team. 
I wasn’t great — in fact, I was pretty terrible — but the lads were full of encouragement. Noel Harte grinned as one of my throws landed far from the ‘jack’. “It’s in your blood,” he said, giving me a wink. “Gotta make the grandmother proud.”
That’s what makes this place what it is. It’s about making time, making space, and making each other feel seen and valued.
Someone later nodded toward the corner where the kettle sat, surrounded by chairs and laughter. It was certainly time for a cuppa. “The most important tool in the Shed is the kettle,” he said, and everyone nodded.
On this visit, I’d brought along a Uccello Kettle – designed to tip and pour safely for anyone with weak grip, hand strength, shaky hands or limited mobility. Noel mentioned how it might be perfect for some of their regulars who lives with Parkinson’s, arthritis and carpal tunnel. It sparked a brief but thoughtful chat about how small changes in design can make daily life that little bit easier – and how even a cuppa can be more accessible with the right tools.
IMAGE: Belmont Men’s Shed, Offaly (L/R) Justin Buckley, Perter Pilkington, Joe Lyons, Tom Kenny, Charlie, Noel Harte, Kellie Anne Lee (Uccello Rep), Kieran Turley
Where the Stories Start
It’s not just about tea. It’s about the pause. The conversation. The ritual of coming together with no agenda beyond company. As Noel Harte put it, ‘’We’ve had lads come here who were talking to no one. Then they sit for tea, and the stories start. That’s where the healing is.’’ It’s about making space for stories, for advice, for jokes – and sometimes, for silence.
Whether you’re sanding down wood, playing Boccia, or just enjoying the banter, it all starts and ends with the kettle. It’s the unofficial heart of the Shed.
With Father’s Day around the corner, that message feels especially poignant. These men may not say much about what the Shed means to them, but you see it in the way they show up for each other — week after week, cup after cup.
I left that evening with a taste for Boccia, a full heart, and the quiet certainty that what’s built in places like this can’t be measured in nails or timber — but in care, community, and conversation.
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