Sadly I ain't one of those that can say he’s been in a generations old workshop all of his working life. There aren't tools still hung on the wall that my grandad put up, or boxes full of secrets who's keys were lost lifetimes ago. Instead I seem to move workshop like a Viking. I’ve never … [Read more...]

Wood has always been in my life. My old man did it for a living. I always remember the sawdust in his pockets, and even when he got home, the forgotten pencil lodged behind his ear. He also had a massive moustache. It feels very strange when I stop to think. Apart from the tash, my pockets … [Read more...]