I am engrossed in cleaning and decorating my new house and have very little of interest to say, except perhaps that I have the world’s finest shed. Sheds have such a strong association of happy memories for me, having spent my pre-school years pottering around in the shed with my dad. I had my own tiny workbench and my own carpentry tools and I made stuff. Making stuff in the shed with my dad, albeit carpentry not fabric, set me on the path to where I am now – happily making stuff and having a love of sheds and workshops and a love of the smell of woodshavings and oil. I am ridiculously lucky that now I have a sewing workshop and a shed. What more could I want?