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Living on the Edge 167; High Anxiety…

Oh hello Everybody, is it Friday again? I think there’s another case of the missing week to investigate. I certainly haven’t seen it… I’m going to have a concerted effort to catch a hold of next week though, and I suggest you do the same, before February starts and we all have to wonder why January, dry, vegan or otherwise, didn’t even bother turning up…

Over on the table there was high drama as I sliced my finger open on a particularly lively new piece of work. Sympathy was scarce though as the little houses were otherwise occupied…

Living on the Edge 167; High Anxiety…

Something was about to happen. Something big. Bronnie could feel it. Earlier that day the sky had divided. A huge split straight down the middle from sky top to horizon. It was a sign. She knew it was and so had clattered away off up to the highest place she knew.

But she was not the only one who had heeded the sign. There were others with the same idea, looking for the epicentre, finding a vantage point, watching the sky. They stood like statues. Waiting, watching and waiting some more.

I’d like to tell you the punchline, to let you in on the secret and put your mind at rest. But all this happened several years ago. And, if I were to take you there now, they’d still be there, waiting. No one wanted to blink for fear of missing it, whatever it was. The rest of the world had long since returned to its business and become used to the new normal, but not them. They stood together alone ready and waiting…waiting… xxx

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Living on the Edge 163; the Smoke House…

Hello Everybody, how is Friday going with you? All is well here, apart from a nagging feeling that I have forgotten something. Not unusual and impossible to say what of course but, I daresay that if it is an important thing it will make itself known soon enough… Over on the table matters are a little dark I fear. I have overheard rumblings, grumblings and tuttings…

Living on the Edge 163; the Smoke House…

The evening news had just announced that the last sunrise would be on April 12th. After that no one was sure what to expect; not even the experts. A gloomy silence hung in the place usually taken up by chitchat.

Margaret belched into the evening air releasing a dark plume of smoke.

“Pardon me,” she spluttered.  After she had finished speaking, her voice rattled on with a deeply embedded and ugly echo.

At the top of the mountain David was in no mood for pardoning.

“Pardon you my eye,” he huffed. “It’s all your fault we’re in this state you know, Margaret.”

He was trying out his latest invention; a special platform to distance himself from the choking gas. It was failing miserably. He longed for fresh air. He longed for the filthy revolution, taking place beneath him at the foot of the mountain, to be over. He returned to his drawing board and pencils, sharp and ready to go. But it was becoming more and more difficult to have blue sky thinking… xxx

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Living on the Edge 164; House Hunting…

Hello Everybody, Happy New Year! Have you made any resolutions? Over on the table there has been much talk between various little houses about who needs to improve what and how to go about doing it. Mostly thinly veiled accusations and insults aimed at one another. I think it’s about to kick off. I’m going to put my head down and ignore it for now and share this little scene with you. And then, let us tread hopefully onward into 2022 armed with a cup of tea and a biscuit…

Living on the Edge 164; House Hunting…

“…Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred! Ready or not, here I come!” bawled Gavin and began searching for his two friends. It did not take long. He found Tilda leaning over a hole nearby, shaking and tearful.

Gavin had earned a reputation as an aggressive hide and seeker who became cross if he believed the other players weren’t trying hard enough. So, when it was his turn to be seeker, Henrietta panicked, lost her footing and tumbled down into some sort of old mine shaft. She was oddly thankful. It was damp and musty but at least he couldn’t claim that she’d taken the easy option.

“She can’t hear me,” wailed Tilda, “I don’t think she’s ever coming back.” she looked woefully at Gavin who had stopped because the fun had stopped.

Below ground Henrietta could, in fact, hear but she was choosing not to listen. She closed her curtains lit a cigarette and enjoyed a moment’s solitude… xxx

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Living on the Edge; Merry Christmas

Hello again, are you managing to muddle through?

This has been a tough year for many people and so, just before the door to the studio closes for a short while, the little houses and I wanted to take the opportunity to send out one last smile.

I made a little video, which you can see here – I hope. It nearly used up every brain cell I possess… intuitive my eye…

We thank you from the bottom of our papery hearts for all the likes, shares, comments and support you have given us this year. We love the little community that surrounds us and are so grateful you are with us. We wish you a very Merry Christmas, may it be peaceful and wondrous in equal measure xxx

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Living on the Edge 165; Pigeon Holed…

Oh coo-eee are you still there? I’m a bit on the drag today, forgive me. I thought you might like a little break from the madness to join me for the latest goings on at the table? Maybe? Well, I’m just going to send this out there and you can have a peek when you’ve got a minute… This is a story within a story really.

Whilst I was out on a rummage a few weeks ago, I found a thing. A lonely thing that was, in my opinion, in need of some little houses to move in and keep it company. I think, perhaps, it once housed a flame, but that had long since gone out it seemed. It’s now with the lovely Byard Art in Cambridge looking for a forever home and, perchance, a bookcase to nestle in to gossip with the books…

Living on the Edge 165; Pigeon Holed…

“The thing about common sense,” began Laurence, pausing for effect and brushing away an imagined speck of dust, “The thing about common sense is that it’s not very common at all.”

He looked about him for confirmation or recognition of this fact and realised that no one was listening. Their lights were on but no one was home, as the saying goes. His work day then ended abruptly as he slammed down his paintbrush and declared he needed a change of air, a change of scenery and a new outlook.

Feeling the air stirring as he stomped off, papers flying in his wake, the others looked from one to another then back to their budget sheets, balance sheets, flow charts and forecast. They were used to outbursts from the creative department. Laurence would surely be back tomorrow with several brilliant ideas for the new advertising campaign.

Or would he? What they didn’t know was that somewhere, in the dimming light of the evening, Laurence was saddling up a horse ready to ride off into the sunset and begin a new page… xxx

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Living on the Edge 162; Time and Tide

Hello Everybody, are you fine? I’ve just popped in to deliver a bit of light relief after what has proved to be a most vexing week. I’ll quietly close the door behind us and we’ll pretend we’re not in if the bell goes. I’ve put the kettle on and baked a few biscuits, so come on over to the table with me and draw up a chair whilst we listen to a tale of woe and feel fortunate that we are not Godfrey…

Living on the Edge 162; Time and Tide…

Godfrey stood on the beach soaked through and pale with exhaustion. Since the Automatic Tide Turner had broken last week he’d had to crank the sea in by hand twice a day but it was becoming increasingly difficult and irksome. He’d phoned the engineer several times to organise the urgent repair of the Turner. Annoyingly, he was waiting for parts to be shipped and so who knew when they’d arrive…

“Anytime now would be fine,” spat Godfrey to no one in particular.

It didn’t help that the kids were off school and were playing on the crests of the waves, whooping with delight. And they weren’t small anymore; they were adding to the weight he had to haul. The sea worn ropes were fraying and so was his temper… xxx

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Living on the Edge 161; Balance Transfer…

Hello, how lovely to see you again! I see December has done that thing it does every year and opened earlier than I’d planned for. It can’t be helped but, for next time, I’m having more warning lights installed and, perhaps, a siren???

Over on the table this week things have, again, been a little fraught as the little houses and I had our AGM. Attendance was good although, arguably, more attention could have been paid to the writing of the minutes. Concerns were raised, as were voices, motions were carried and it was agreed that I would no longer have unsupervised access to the pinking shears. I’m still smarting from that…

I think I could do with a cup of tea, a biscuit and a story. Do join me won’t you?

Living on the Edge 161; Balance Transfer…

When Botolph had nestled himself on the top of Mount Wearing he hadn’t considered the precarious nature of the site. Not for a minute. What he had considered was the view. And only the view. His neighbours had had a similar approach to choosing a location and now the three of them stood looking out and over to the uninhabited islands across the strait wondering if their erosion was less, their view as good and their grass greener…

“We’re as ok as we need to be,” maintained Botolph tapping away at his keyboard. He shifted his weight backwards, creaking as he went and put in his order for some more substantial underpinning jacks and a dozen rolls of duct tape… xxx

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Living on the Edge, out and about…

Oooh Hello, how are you? The little houses and I have been very busy recently. Well, some of us have actually been busy, some of us have just been busy telling everyone else how busy and important they are… I will let you decide who you think did which. Suffice it to say I’m the tired one…

Anyway, I know I told you this last week but, just in case you weren’t in when I called and because Simon Turner has made a fancy video, I’ll say it again and share said video here…

This weekend, 27th – 28th November 10 – 4pm, the little houses will be at the lovely Yoxford Makers open studio High Street, Yoxford, Suffolk, IP17 3EP run by ceramicist Nancy Main.

Nancy, Simon and me will be exhibiting. I’m going to be there on the Sunday. T’would be fabulous to see you if you can make it. I’ve put the photo of me at the top of this little missive so you’ll know it’s me. I think, like a lot of makers, being in front of a camera isn’t a comfortable place. Especially if the birds are doing a fly-past… xxx

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Living on the 160 Edge; Nicholas Caige…

Hello Everybody, how are you today? I have to admit I have a slight headache. I’m not blaming anyone in particular but this week the little houses have been getting themselves ready to go to the beautiful Yoxford Makers Open Studios on the Saturday and Sunday 27th & 28th November 10am – 4pm.

There is always high drama, stress and, of course, arguments for such preparations. Who will wear what, who will be spokesperson, who will be in charge of sandwiches, who is vegan, who pinched who…. If you’re over this way please pop in. I will be there on the Sunday and very pleased to talk to humans.

Whilst all this hoo-ha was going on, in the corner of the table, someone, perhaps wisely, wasn’t paying attention…

Living on the Edge 160; Nicholas Caige…

Ever since Nick’s therapist had told him that, in one way or another, we are all prisoners of our own device he had set about making sure that, if this was really true, he would be able to set himself free. He had heard that if you loved someone you must set them free, that the truth would set him free, that freedom was a state of mind, that freedom was not free and also that love was the key.

He leant against his bars and sighed. It was all getting a bit confusing. He rootled through his old vinyl collection and found his Eagles albums.

“I think I’ll just listen to these for a while” he said to himself and looked up the number of his therapist to book another session… xxx

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Living on the Edge 159; Catcher in the Dream…

Hello Everybody. Happy Friday! It’s here again, hooray! I have a new thing to show you today. It’s a small world to nestle quietly in between the books on a shelf, it’s even got lighting. The little houses were very excited by this fact so now they’re all putting it on their wish lists and getting stroppy when I tell them it’s not suitable for everyone. Can you hear the rod for my back being fashioned?

Anyway, this is a hopeful little tale which is making me wonder if we shouldn’t all sleep for a while…

Living on the Edge 159; Catcher in the Dream…

Marie-Louise had been asleep for most of the day. This is what she always did. The others thought her lazy because they didn’t know her secret. But I am going to tell you, if you promise to keep it safe. She was a night worker; a dream catcher to be more precise.

It wasn’t the kind of job you would ever see in the job vacancies column or pinned to the notice board at the jobcentre. But somehow Marie-Louise had found the role and made it her own.

Each night, while all those around her slept, Marie-Louise was awake watching their dreams take shape and watching their deepest wishes play out in strange and fantastical scenes. She watched until the time came to extract the essence from those dreams and make them come true.

Now, to clarify, this doesn’t mean that she made zebras in crinoline skirts appear in the garden drinking cocktails, nor did it mean she could make you sprout wings and fly. It simply meant that she would carefully harvest the happiness that the dreams sparked and take cuttings or collect seeds which she would then plant and nurture. And, if she happened upon any nightmares, she would scatter sawdust across them, starving them of the oxygen they needed to thrive and soak up their bitter juice till they dissolved.

It was a lonely occupation but Marie-Louise had become used to it and no longer wished for the presence of colleagues, although a little help now and then would have been welcome. She gazed across the sleeping hillsides and, while she watched their peaks glow through the darkness, she could see where the dreams she had planted were beginning to grow… xxx