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June has been a month I won’t forget in a hurry.
Andy’s had one of his scrap-built Berts chosen for exhibition at Shrewsbury Art Gallery, yes, the Shrewsbury Art Gallery.
I’ve made it into the final three for the Soldiering On Awards in the New Business category, a national award, with a big fancy black-tie event hosted by Jeremy Vine in October (I know… I’m still trying to believe it).
We were chosen by Theo Paphitis for his Small Business Sunday, and this morning, as if June hasn’t been wild enough, I’m being interviewed on BBC Radio Shropshire by Clare Ashford at 10:15am. (Yes, I’ll be hiding my nerves behind a cuppa and hoping I don’t accidentally say “poobarb” on live radio.)
All of that… and we’re still sat at the same £30 table we bought from Facebook Marketplace.
It’s an old mahogany table on squeaky casters, worn smooth by time and covered in scars from a hundred years of other people’s lives. These days, it’s covered in copper wire, scribbled notes, Meccano bits, and the occasional blob of glue from stop-motion days when I forget to move the craft mat. It’s been our potting bench, our business hub, our Sunday roast centrepiece, and our storytelling stage. It has dents from grandchildren helping Grandad build Berts, and once held my elbows as I cried quietly into my tea when Andy was having a tough time.
That table has held more than projects, it’s held us.
Weebert’s World was born right there, one copper wire curl and story at a time. And somehow, this month, it feels like the world has started to say “we see what you’re building, and we love it.”
I’m not trying to be a polished businesswoman. I just want to stay true to the authentic me.
But when I need to, I reach into the muscle memory of my old life, giving presentations to a roomful of people, working in public sector partnerships, writing policies and strategies that made a difference. It’s still there. I don’t wear a suit, but I know how to get things done.
And through it all, stories. Always stories.
Last weekend, we celebrated our granddaughter’s third birthday. Five granddaughters in the garden, splashing in the paddling pool, making up Weebert songs, building robots from clothes pegs. The baby, just six months, watched it all with wide, gummy smiles.
It’s these moments that remind me why we’re doing this. Not for awards, not even for recognition, but because imagination matters. Childhood matters. And the stories we tell shape the way little minds see the world.
Weebert’s World is a children’s brand, yes. But it’s also a heart project. It’s for families like ours. It’s for the ones who’ve built a whole lot of life around a humble kitchen table.
And maybe that’s the most valuable thing we’ve learned from this wild June:
You don’t need a studio or a perfect plan.
You need heart, imagination… and possibly a hot glue gun.
If you’ve been following our journey, thank you.
If you’re new here, welcome.
If you’d like to support us, here’s how you can help:
💌 Subscribe to our newsletter for behind-the-scenes stories, free downloads, and updates.
📺 Subscribe to our YouTube channel for free children’s stories and stop-motion animations.
🗣️ Share Weebert’s World with friends. Or your neighbour. Or your dog walker. Honestly, everyone. We’re building this little world with love and word of mouth.
We’re not trying to be perfect.
We’re just trying to build something that matters.
And June? June showed us that we might just be doing exactly that.
Love,
Lotty x
