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Living on the Edge 158; Three Little Words…

Well good morning Everybody! Are you up and about already too? I blame the clocks changing. I tried to save the extra hour we had to use when I really needed it but it had a ‘spend it or lose it’ clause attached so I couldn’t. Never mind, maybe next autumn…

Over on the table there’s been a bit of a Mills and Boon Moment, but have a handkerchief ready…

Living on the Edge 158; Three Little Words…

Lewis, Lisa and Lulu had been friends forever. They had been born within days of one another, grown up next-door to one another and pretty much never been apart. A trinity. An unholy trinity their mothers had called them; forever in each other’s back yards, giggling, sharing secrets and dreaming up some new scheme.

But today it all came falling in around Lisa and her hopes lay in shards on the cliff top. Today, Lewis and Lulu had announced that they were engaged to be married. Things were never going to be the same again. Ever.

When she saw the delight written across Lewis’ face, a silent tear rolled from Lisa’s top left window. She had always thought that she would be the one that he proposed to, the one choosing a ring with him, the one he truly loved.

“But I love you” she whispered inaudibly into the wind. And then, her inner actor assumed the role of joyous friend, and with her toothiest grin, she turned to the happy couple and proffered them the bottle of champagne she’d been saving… xxx

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Living on the Edge; Bon Voyage…

Well hello Everybody and a happy Friday to you! It’s been a busy week over on the table. Amongst other malarkey I carefully packed up the latest batch of little houses to be on their merry way to Scotland. The Found Gallery in Dunbar to be precise.

I say merry but, to be honest, the packing of little houses is rarely a merry experience. There is always far too much pushing, arguing and complaining. This time it began when, and I’m not going to name individuals, X said Y had stolen his favourite sentence. When Y retorted he’d done no such thing, X yelled he was going to rip Y to pieces. The others waded in, of course, taking sides, offering up threats and before long a full blown rumpus was underway.

I put them all in separate boxes, under a thick layer of bubble wrap and taped the box up as quickly as I could. I dread to think what the poor postman who has to deliver them will think.

Anyway, if you happen to be up in Dunbar, do pop in for a visit. Hopefully bygones will be bygones by the time you arrive… xxx

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Living on the Edge 157; Answers on a Postcard…

Oh, hello Everybody, what’s going on with you? Are you at peace with the world? I was until I arrived at the table this morning, and I’m now a little concerned about how the rest of the day is going to pan out. I am hoping a calm will descend and no further action will be taken, but, I believe, a straw may just have broken the camel’s back…

Living on the Edge 157; Answers on a Postcard…

Anita sighed, and in an attempt to find comfort, thought back to the old adage ‘this too shall pass’. But when exactly would this madness pass?

Frank had been entering competitions again. This wasn’t a thing he did now and again. He had made a career of it. A while back Anita thought she’d convinced him it was high time he retired, sat back and just enjoyed his winnings but no, Frank seemed to be unable to stop…

As far as Anita could see, there were two problems. The first was that Frank never looked at what prizes were on offer before he entered, the second that Frank was incredibly lucky.

It was only February and so far that year Anita had had to contend with a speed boat, a year’s supply of Campari, a goldfish in a bag, a set of red barstools and several over-sized cuddly toys. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful but, when Frank returned home from his latest TV quiz appearance with a two week underwater holiday in Antarctica, Anita began to wonder about holding a raffle. With Frank as first prize… xxx

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Living on the Edge 156; Rolodex Ron…

Hello Everybody, have you noticed that the tap has been left on and half of October has escaped? I‘d forgotten it was such a slippery customer. I’m going to try and savour the rest of it, maybe I could weigh it down with a few pumpkins…

Anyway, on the table this week I witnessed this little scene unfolding which I will leave with you whilst I try and get a handle fixed to October before it disappears completely…

Living on the Edge 156; Rolodex Ron…

“What are you selling?” asked Jeremy suspiciously. He was about to be sorry he’d asked…

“I’m here to show you how to keep all the numbers and contact details of your friends and family in one convenient place,” said the stranger moving back and forth in a most unsettling way.

“All those pesky loose bits of paper will be a thing of the past with this second to none storage system and…”

Jeremy’s eyes began to glaze; this clown is living in the past, he thought and was about to tell him so, when he looked down at his smart phone. It had run out of charge again. Perhaps he did need some kind of backup system. It might be handy and he could avoid incurring the wrath of Aunt Maud when, having lost her address for the umpteenth time, he’d missed sending her birthday card. Besides it did look pretty cool…

“…and full circle back to the ‘A’s,” concluded the salesman. He was about to begin the next section of his spiel when Jeremy stopped him.

“How much is this going to set me back?” asked Jeremy. But he was already reaching for his wallet… xxx

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Living on the Edge 155; Art Imitating Life…

Good morning Everybody. How are you today? Are there days when you wonder what the world is coming to? I’m having one of those days and I’m not sure but I’m concluding it might be to a sticky end. However, I’m still smiling and I hope you are too. There’s a bit at the top of the word document I’m writing that says ‘Tell me what you want to do’ I’ve never seen it before but I might click it and see if it has some of the answers… I will let you know if I find anything good… In the meantime, here is today’s little share…

Living on the Edge 155; Art Imitating Life…

When Sylvie had first come across Henri he was lying face down in the gutter covered in turpentine. He had just completed his latest masterpiece, read the critics’ damning disapproval and, as a result, had imbibed the best part of a large bottle of absinthe.He was, in short, very the worse for wear. Not one to shy away from her duty as a fine upstanding citizen Sylvie sobered him up, bought the painting and gave Henri a home right next door to her on the swanky Avenue Frochot. She was smitten.

Life was, at last, looking up for Henri. Taking out his sketchbook he began a fresh, new page. He could really take to this new neighbourhood and lifestyle… If he could only stay off the sauce for a while… xxx

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Living on the Edge 154; On the Ball…

Hello Everybody. Happy October! How have you been? I’m back after a couple of weeks away in a tiny motorhome travelling around Yorkshire. It really is beautiful up there, go and have a look if you can. I have found much inspiration and the little houses have had just about enough time to start missing me (they would never admit to that though, of course)

Today’s share is a piece completed before I left when two little houses were deep in conversation. I don’t know what kind of outfit they’re running between them, but on my return I found the pair of them still sat shooting the breeze…

‘Living on the Edge 154; On the Ball…’

“Mate? Are we under the shade of a coolibah tree?” asked Dwayne as the two friends sat together eating lunch, planning strategy for the next stage of their business .

“ I don’t know, I’m not good with tree identification,” replied Mark, “could be I guess. Does it matter?”

“Not really,” said Dwayne. “I have this song stuck in my head though… Do you know the one?” He took another bite of sandwich and began humming.

“Yeah, I know it. But if you’re going to ask me to waltz down this hill with you next, you can think again.”

Mark sighed. He liked Dwayne; he really did. But the guy so easily lost sight of the point… xxx

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Living on the Edge 150; High Hopes…

Hello Everybody, Happy Friday! Do you remember a while back when Shirl made an appearance? Well, today’s share is the scene she was meant to be taking part in once she tore herself away from that which did not concern her. It is a recently completed commission that is now with its rightful owner so I can safely show you. There’s a little video here

So settle in with a nice cup of tea or, indeed, coffee, if that is your thing, and maybe a couple of biscuits. It’s a long one…

Living on the Edge 150; High Hopes…

When Miss Bunty Withers arrived at the scene, things were already out of hand. She’d been called by the neighbour for legal advice a month earlier but since then,matters had escalated. This was her first visit to site. Tensions were running high, voices were raised and there was a strong smell of gas.

Logan had a very bad case of keeping up with the Joneses and what had begun as a simple kitchen extension had turned into a race with Adrian and Hester to the top of the skyline. No planning permission had ever been granted for no planning permission had ever been sought. And now, what with the excavations for the underground heated swimming pool and the weight of the numerous new rooms, the ground had given way and become a gaping yawn.

Adrian and Hester stood back looking smug, exchanging knowing looks and feeling vindicated that they had indeed been right to call for the services of a qualified someone, albeit a little late in the day.Sean, never one to make a fuss, but with every right to make one given the current situation he found himself in, was precariously balanced on the edge of a hole and was giving out a slow, high pitched siren noise but was otherwise unresponsive.

Shirl, who’d been trying to mind her own business but no longer could, was leaning over where the pavement used to be and talking about personal safety issues and trying to see what Miss Withers was writing on her clipboard.

Since qualifying in September Bunty had been looking for something to get her teeth into and call her own. She scratched her nose to ease an itch that didn’t exist,dug a Louboutin heel a little deeper into the tarmac and took a deep breath.Why hadn’t she been called earlier to draft contracts? Most of the chaos unfolding before her could surely have been avoided. But now it was too late.But then, she mused as she looked around, perhaps it had always been too late… xxx

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Living on the Edge 151; Solitary Bea…

Well hello Everybody. Did you notice that September’s been switched? I’m yet to catch up with July, how about you? Over at the table we’ve had a western movie moment where the tumbleweed has blown through but, in the distance, I can hear the little houses whispering behind their shutters about a certain someone…

Living on the Edge 151; Solitary Bea…

Living alone was what Bea did best. She’d had plenty of practice. She lived on a rocky outcrop, miles from anyone but for a singular tree who never uttered a word.Certainly she’d had neighbours in the past but, just as certainly, there had always turned out to be something wrong with them. There would be a falling out and Bea would move on. Once, when she lived in a row of terraces, she’d discovered that the entire chain of neighbours were at fault in their different ways and she had neither the time nor the patience to help them all see sense. So, she moved on. From neighbourhood to neighbourhood, from village to village, street to street. Everywhere she went she found the same story. Until she found herself alone.

Was she lonely? Well yes, but what could she do? No neighbour could live up to her exacting expectations. And in all this time she’d never once looked more closely at what was happening. And never once did she see the common denominator… xxx

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Measuring Up…

Hello Everybody, how are you this fine Friday? It has been mentioned to me by a few people recently that it is difficult to tell how big the little houses actually are. Now, whilst they don’t really like me to mention it, they are quite sensitive about it you know, I thought it would be a good time to let you in on their secret: They’re not just little; they are tiny. Not minuscule you understand but they cannot, in any way, be seen from space. Here to illustrate the point are Gloria, Tyrone, Maria, David, Nellie and Morten (half seen) out on a measuring trip to see how many of them could fit in an allotted space. I sneaked in sideways (that’s my thumb) with the other ruler in case any of you are working in inches.

So there it is. It is a small world after all. Don’t tell them I told you though. Just because they’re small it doesn’t mean they’re not fierce… xxx

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Living on the Edge 153; Don’t Cry Out Loud

Hello Everybody. Is Everybody fine? A tale of great sadness with a 1970s Melissa Manchester/Elkie Brooks vibe has unfolded on the table this week I’m sorry to say. There’s a tiny video here if you want to see… You may need a tissue…

Living on the Edge 153; Don’t Cry Out Loud

“Let’s go if we’re going,” said the bird and he took off, heaving Jack with him through the air. Everybody had warned him that it could never work if he eloped with the circus, Big Top. What do you really have in common? They had asked. But Jack couldn’t hear them. He was in love.

Big Top watched as Jack took flight with the stupid bird he’d befriended. So what if Jack left her. Didn’t they always leave her? So what if she had actually believed he loved her and she him. She pulled her guy ropes tighter and waved her flag, after all she didn’t want the whole stupid world to know her heart was breaking… xxx