Simon Squibb says we all need to take more risks. For most of my life, I would have scrolled past that kind of advice, muttering something like “easy for him to say.” But now, I find myself nodding along. Not to everything he says, but to one big idea: sometimes, the risk isn’t doing the thing—it’s never finding out what might’ve happened if you had.
At 60, I finally get it.
“I think you’ve got too much imagination for your own good.”
That’s what I was told as a child. Not kindly, not playfully. It was said like a warning, as if creativity was something dangerous I needed to keep hidden. And for a long time, I believed them. I boxed it up. I became good. Sensible. Safe. I chose the steady jobs. The structured life. The no-fuss path. I made myself smaller.
But here I am now, standing shoulder to shoulder with my husband Andy—and we’ve thrown ourselves into something wildly imaginative, ambitious, creative, and yes, risky. It’s called Weebert’s World—an original children’s animation brand inspired by robot sculptures made entirely from scrap.
We’re not just dabbling. We’re all in. And that’s a big deal for two people who spent most of our lives being risk-averse.
We were the couple who followed the rules. Andy served for nearly three decades in the military, and I worked in the public sector for years. We raised our children, saved what we could, and made decisions with practicality in mind. We weren’t the kind of people who took big creative leaps. We were the safety netters. The plodders. The “let’s not get carried away”-ers.
But something changed.
It started when Andy began making robot sculptures from scrap as a way to heal. He didn’t mean to start a movement—he just needed to create. To make something with his hands. To turn broken, discarded pieces into something beautiful. The Berts were born.
And when I saw them—scattered around the house, not one of them tucked neatly away—I knew they weren’t just art. They were characters. Personalities. Stories waiting to be told. My imagination—once buried—kicked back into full gear.
That spark has now grown into Weebert’s World, a children’s animation concept with real-world heart. We’ve created a growing YouTube channel, developed a school outreach programme, written original stories, and even sparked early merchandise interest. It’s a creative brand built on sustainability, storytelling, and giving children permission to explore their imaginations.
There’s no instruction manual for any of this. No safety net. No pension plan. But what we do have is belief—deep, growing belief—that this is the right thing for us. That children need stories that show them the power of creativity. That you can build something from nothing. That imagination matters.
And we’ve had people believe in it, too. Licensing experts like Rob Wijeratna and Susan Bolsover, creative entrepreneurs like Hannah Saunders, and business leaders like Julia Elliott Brown and Dawn Shand—they’ve all seen the potential. And most importantly, so have the children, parents, and teachers who’ve met Weebert in real life.
This journey has been full of wobbles. Some days we wonder what on earth we’re doing. Some days we feel too old, too late, too inexperienced. But then we get a comment from a parent saying their child hasn’t stopped imagining since meeting Weebert. Or we sit back and see that our robot-shaped leap of faith is inspiring something bigger than us.
We’ve learned that embracing risk doesn’t mean being reckless. It means believing in something enough to say: let’s try.
So if you’ve got an idea rattling around in your head—half-finished, a little rusty, taped together—I get it. I’ve been there. But if you wait for the perfect moment, you’ll be waiting forever.
This is your nudge: take the leap. Build the thing. Let your imagination lead.
You never know what you’ll create from the scraps.
— Lotty
