The Lady looked up, smiled …
I works with the OLD WAYS, me dear.
The kettle’s singing.
Pull up that old box, why don’t you?
Oh and mind the sparks deary, you’ll singe your coat.
Now … tell me what drew you here.

What do we do here?
Well yes, we make things … she paused
Oh and we can mend lots of things here too.
She glanced down at him from where she was messing with the teapot.
Lots o’ folk comes here looking for one thing, and then they leaves with quite another.
 
She scratched her glorious bird’s nest of hair.
I s’pose we mostly make room for things to become what they really are …
Then she looked back at the glowing lump in the fire.
Mind you … half the trouble is finding out what that is.
 
What was that? What am I making?
You mean this?
Well I’m not quite sure yet.
When I got up this morning it wanted to be a spoon,
Then later, when I’d got sort of half into it,
it said it wanted to be a fork,
and now … well, I just thought I’d leave it to rest in the fire.
It’ll give me a shout when it knows what it wants.
Then we can get on with it.

She reached for the kettle that was just about dancing on the hob …
Well nothing don’t never stay the same here.
That’s what a forge is for …

She poured boiling water into a big red teapot …