My favourite teacher had nothing to do with school. He was actually a big, powerful man called Andy Nesbitt who worked as a diesel fitter for my dad's plant hire company .
It was from him that I learned 'there's no such word as can't'. It was simply pointless to say the word because all he'd do was glance up disapprovingly then carry on with whatever he was doing leaving me to figure it out, which I usually did and still do to this day.
His other party piece was to let me hurt myself. Unless what I was doing was about to result in death or serious injury he'd not intervene then once I was hopping about trying to staunch the flow of blood from my fingers or disperse the circle of tweeting birds from around my newly bashed head he'd smile and say,
"You'll not to that again, will you..."
It was the most bloody infuriating thing he could possibly do to me so I made it my mission to not give him any opportunity. Other than that he taught me a million and one ways to make, fix or cobble bits of machinery to keep them going. A splendid man.
