A broadsheet for things worth keeping · est. on a workbench
A broken kettle is not rubbish. It is a kettle with one bad part and a story you're not done with. Every third Saturday we set out the tools, pull up a stool, and mend it with you — not for you.
Five things we hold to be true
01
Throwing it
away is a choice.
Nothing breaks itself on purpose. A frayed cable, a seized hinge, a split seam — these are repairs waiting to happen, not verdicts. The bin is the lazy answer; the workbench is the honest one.
02
Skills belong
to everyone.
We don't hand back a fixed object — we hand back the knowing-how. Solder, stitch, re-glue, re-wire: you do it, we steady your hand. Next month you steady someone else's.
03
8 in 10
things can be saved.
Most failures are one cheap part or one loose joint away from another decade of use. We log every repair on the strip below — kept honest, no number we didn't count ourselves. The bin can wait.
04
A street that
mends, holds.
The café is the excuse; the neighbours are the point. People who fix things together look out for each other — the toaster gets a second life, and so does the afternoon.
05
Keep it.
Pass it on.
What we mend, we keep in use; what we outgrow, we give away mended. Nothing leaves whole and ends up broken in a skip. That is the whole movement, in one line.
Counts are tallied by hand at each session; figures are illustrative of a single neighbourhood chapter.
Nothing.
Donations buy solder and biscuits. Repairs are always free.
The broken thing
Small electricals, textiles, ceramics, bikes, toys. If it fits through the door, bring it.
Third Sat.
10 till 2, at the old print room behind the library. No booking, no rush.
A reminder, not a sign-up. We never sell your details.