Living on the Edge 218; Sea Change…

It had taken years for the inhabitants to get the landscaping of their beloved Half Horseshoe Harbour just right. Years of drawings, years of meetings and years of wrangling with the planning department.

And now, at the eleventh hour, for the sea to decide that he no longer wanted to be part of it and opt out, was too much for them to take… The villagers stood in their allotted plots, many of them close to tears, staring into the void where the sea had once been…

Hello Everybody. It’s the shortest day with the mostest to do but let’s stop for a quick mince pie and a small glass of sherry. I wanted to thank you for your support this year. For all the likes, the shares, the purchases and words of encouragement you have sent, the Little Houses and I thank you from the bottom of our hearths and heart. We wish you the happiest of Christmases. We’ll be back in the New Year…

But for now, I’m afraid the shenanigans haven’t abated…

The flaw, and it was a sizeable flaw, was that when the job description had mentioned the need for magical powers, Sandy had ignored this, somewhat essential skill, believing he could pick it up as he went. His motto had always been ‘Say yes to everything then fake it til you make it’

To the question “Do you possess a clean sleigh driving licence?” he’d answered “Yes.” Completely glossing over the sleigh bit… How difficult could it be, he’d thought. Now, with Christmas Day creeping over the horizon, Sandy was beginning to realise that no amount of faking it would help him convince the world that he was the real deal…

In a nutcracker shell Sandy had lied, stretching the truth so thin that now, possibly too late in the day to do much about it, Christmas was coming apart at the seams… xxx

I’m going to tell you, not because I want to spread rumours or because I think Boyce is strange but, because I think you will understand and find it illuminating.

Once upon a time, a great hurried steam train rushed overhead and through the countryside many times a day; juddering the residents of the tiny villages and connecting them to all the elsewheres, great and small, across the land. This was long before the fall of the railways though.

Nowadays, a handful of large dwellings resided underneath the arches of the ruined viaduct. They weren’t what Boyce called friends. They were very busy buildings, always otherwise occupied with some bustle or other. Boyce had tried to befriend them but found them rather self-important, cold and hoity- toity so he’d given up.

Hello Everybody, happy November, yes, it is here already! Are you fine? A whole gaggle of Little Houses have been gathering for a few weeks in preparation for a journey and, on Tuesday, they left the building in boxes. I took them to stay with the lovely people at Byard Art in Cambridge and I can only hope they have heeded my advice about what constitutes good behaviour… Do pop in if you can.

Anyway, as a result of the exodus, the workshop was strangely quiet. That was until this lot turned up… (picture 1) They are roofless which always makes them a bit giddy. It also makes them noisy and liable to say anything… perhaps it’s because they have no lid to keep on it, no hat to keep it under, no filter you see… So take anything you might hear with a pinch of salt…

I have shared some stills with you but if you fancy flick through October’s photo album, as a farewell to the absent Little Houses, there’s a little reel just here I’ve made chocolate soup because there’s that slight chill in the air, please help yourself. I did look for some of those biscotti things but, alas, there were none to be had so we’ll make do with shortbread. Have a fabulous weekend and I shall see you very soon… xxx

Oh Yoo-Hoooo! Good afternoon, Everybody, welcome to another Friday. Is it raining with you? It certainly has been here; summer was switched off on Wednesday and Autumn quickly sashayed in turning the heating dial down as she did. Time for snuggling up in warm jumpers. Hooray! If only I was further ahead in the knitting of mine…

Anyway, I’ll walk you over to the table and we can check in with the Little Houses. Do have some tea and a slice of cake, it’s chocolate today. I am afeared that another drama is in process…

Living on the Edge 212; Block Aid… part one

High on a plateau in the middle of dense forest sat the tiny hamlet of Oakley Newell. Hardly anyone even knew it existed. It was difficult to find and very difficult to access. And that is exactly why Rock, Doris, Catherine, Meryl and Gerard had chosen to live there.

They had spent their younger days lighting up the silver screen and feeling that they were public property. And so, when they retired, they completely retreated.

They were, therefore, very distressed to learn that, somehow, their secrets were getting out. It was as if their most private conversations were being listened to, noted down and broadcast to the nation. But how? Who would do such a thing? There had never been any formal agreement but, it was an unsaid rule that, what happened in Oakley Newell stayed in Oakley Newell. Each one of them had trusted that the others were abiding by the same guideline… Until now and it was very upsetting to think they were suddenly being betrayed by one of their number… Suspicion is a contagious blight and, once it sets in, nothing is ever quite the same. Irreparable damage was looking unavoidable… 

Tune in next week for part two….