Blog

I’m happy to admit that watching children go down a slide makes me anxious. I don’t like tunnels because I imagine collisions happening inside them. When children run wildly through puddles in the playground, I want them to slow down. Sandpits are where children go to get sand in their eyes, footballs are designed to knock people over, and absolutely everything can and will be a trip hazard. From my innate hatred of risky physical play, you might assume I was a timid and careful child myself. I was, however, quite the opposite. I spent more time up trees than on solid ground. I liked hanging from the branches and watching my feet swing, disembodied and heavy in the abyss below. In my childhood home, we had a shed under the house full of electric and manual tools, broken furniture, all manner of nails, screws, shards of glass and plugs. And I was allowed to use them all, and I did, all the time! I had scabby knees, splinters in not just my fingers, but my elbows, too. I was sunburnt and...