Woodworking

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It was love at first smell. The freshly cut pine wafted to my six-year-old nose. I made a simple wooden trivet: two stout blocks connected by four spindly dowels. I cut, drilled, glued and painted. I loved it.

It was the full-body experience that got me – the smell of pine and the odour of drilling, the heft of the wood in my hand. But I also loved the process: I fashioned the parts I needed, built the piece and gave it a presentable finish. My mum used this simple, awkward trivet for almost everything that came out of her oven.