I pinched this poster from a Glastonbury Festival web page. Something about it caught my eye, but for the life of me I can’t quite identify what it is.

My best guess is the stylised butterfly and the designs similarity to a Brasso tin.

Brasso was my paternal grandparents idea of a good time for their only grandchild.

“What shall we do with her while she is here?”

“Lets get the Brasso out and then after that we can play Scrabble”

Hours passed, spoons were shined. Scrabble was played with no consideration given to the differences in our ages or vocabularies. Beyond that I read books that I had brought with me or lost myself in the concise encyclopaedias on their bookshelves. They had a television, I never experienced it being turned on. At the end of their period of caring I was either collected by my dad or sent home to walk home via the roads or via the fields of two conjoined farms that were between their home and mine.

I was taught to achieve this journey, safely by my grandfather who would accompany me to start with and then gradually once he was confident that I knew where I was going he did less and less of the journey with me. Ultimately just waving me off either at the front gate or the style at the top of their property which led to the meadows and pastures of the countryside that circled the small market town where we all lived.

Their ‘no frills’ grandparenting style taught me the power of one.

I can’t say that beyond that I have achieved the promise of the poster. I have only ever made little things happen and any movements I have started have not changed the world significantly. But also I don’t think I have done too much harm. Which is a good thing, but hardly the sort of statement that sits well on a poster.