The Actor
It was a miserable and windy Glastonbury day, grey and drizzly like so many over an English summer. My teenage kids had abandoned their tents or squelchy expeditions to the music stages and squatted my caravan, to dry out and avoid the worst of the weather.
I was outside under my awning, talking to the damp passers-by, giving them a modicum of shelter and doing a minimum of workshops because, given the blustery conditions, no one really wanted to hang about for long. My kids were larking about inside, warm and dry, building Stonehenge out of Jenga blocks and the like, making faces at me through the window and bringing me the occasional cuppa or snack.
I was chatting to a very personable fella who was keenly interested in what I was doing – he didn’t have time to do a workshop he said, as he had to be elsewhere, but was fascinated both by my vintage tools and the craft itself. Suddenly my kids were at the window, gesticulating wildly and trying to distract me. I tried to ignore them, flicking v signs at them behind my back and concentrating on the conversation I was having – I was able to talk him though the origins of smithing, the place of the smith in the community and the hand and treadle tools that I had gathered about me to be able to smith off-grid anywhere. He was genuinely fascinated, asking pertinent and thoughtful questions.
After he’d gone, my kids tumbled out of the caravan:
“Mum, mum – you know who that was?”
“No, who was it?”
“Keanu Reeves.”
Clearly the ‘elsewhere’ he had to be was the Jazz Stage with his band – I honestly hadn’t a clue, but what a lovely man!
Kate The Wordsmith 