Oh hello, I’m late again, aren’t I? Sorry, much is afoot at the moment and I’m having trouble keeping up… Let’s have a sherry and a chat, this may take a while so settle in…

Can you keep a secret? Please don’t let the little houses in on it. They will only kick off and we don’t need that at the moment. So, I have been doing a little bit of work on the side and I thought I would show you a sneak preview…

I have always been a collector. A gatherer of beautiful things. I greatly admire those who live in uber-chic, pared down spaces and the beauty of that simpleness. But, much as I have tried, I just can’t do it. Now, don’t go away with the idea that I’m untidy, that is far from the truth. I usually know exactly where everything is. It’s just that it’s not possible for magpies to contain treasure sparsely. It spills out. My brother once said stepping into my home is like walking into Steptoe’s Yard, all that is missing is the human skeleton hanging in a corner. I’m working on that, but they’re expensive you know…

As a child, once old enough to brandish scissors, I would snip images and words out of magazines and keep them in a box. I still do this, but now they’re glued into sketchbooks and pinned on a floor to ceiling pinboard. Oh ok, there are boxes too…  But they’re all necessary. They are inspirations…

The reason I’m telling you all this pertains to one particular snippet that I kept for years. I believe it must have been taken from a catalogue and was a flat lay of 6 or 7 rag dolls. How I loved them. I was never able to afford them but I hoped one day to make my own little doll family. In my childish scrawl I had named each doll in a list that corresponded to their catalogue number. Gayle, Rosalie, Stephanie… I don’t recall the others.

That set of dolls was never made. Over the years I made a few singular dolls but never quite scratched the nagging itch. The notion has never left me and raises its head every so often saying ‘what about me?’

So… Yesterday I almost finished the first doll and, whilst she is nothing like the original rag dolls, she is the beginning of something… Sneak peek… Feet first, as the saying goes… More next week… xxx

Hello Everybody, are you fine? I feel I ought to explain my two-week absence… Yes, you guessed right, there’s been a to-do…

Completely my fault. Absolutely no one else to blame but myself. I tipped a glass of water over the computer keyboard and there endeth said computer. It was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. The surgeon was able to save the black box flight recorder so, very fortunately, not all was lost. From the risk assessment, carried out by a very bossy little house, my take home is as follows:

1. Hence forth only lidded drinks are permitted on the table when the computer is about.
2. Back up Betty! Back up! It was only luck that the memories were saved.

And so now, I have cleared the table of all the dripping detritus and the new computer is stowed away, I feel it is safe for us to bring out the tea things and have a cuppa whilst we see the latest disaster to befall the Little Houses…

Living on the Edge 205; The Burnt Offering…

After the accident, Robert had done his best to repair the damage. However, he knew that, on her return, his grandmother would notice things were not as she had left them…

As the rooks circled above at a loss to explain the new appearance of the landscape, Robert, balanced gingerly on his one remaining stilt, took stock…

The once verdant lawn, which had been covered in daisies, and the little bluebell-filled thicket were now charred beyond recognition. He wasn’t entirely confident that the smouldering was completely finished and the smoky air still stung and clouded his windows. What’s more, and this was the thing that bothered him most, his grandmother would now need a boat to get home… He appreciated he had a fair bit of explaining ahead, starting with the piece of toast he’d taken a notion for on Tuesday evening… xxx

Bonjour Everybody, are you ok? Another week has gone flying past and I didn’t manage to catch much of it in my net, how about you? Today, I bring more than a rumour of a new deli arriving across the street from me. People in logoed t shirts have been spotted and gossip about up-coming deliciousness is rife. Very dangerous said I, and the little houses supported the motion that it should be a venue for treats rather than daily visits for supplies… In the meantime, I have half a packet of digestives to share and a chocolate soup maker… One cup at a time please and we’ll turn our attention to this poor soul…

Living on the Edge 203; Paige Caged…

On meeting Paige you would honestly believe that she was one of those eternally cheerful, optimistic souls. And that is exactly what she wants us to think. However, in reality, most days this couldn’t be further from the truth. You see, not all good actors are on stage. Paige’s performances of being ‘Absolutely Fine, thank you’ were Oscar material. And absolutely exhausted her.

She won’t thank you for looking at her just now. Whilst drying her tears, she scripts the next episode of ‘Paige is Absolutely Fine’. After so many episodes and so many tears, her smile switch is rusting and she is finding it increasingly difficult to go out.

But all this is about to change because today, whilst scrolling through the TV guide, she’s going to stumble across a show named ‘It’s Okay Not To Be Okay’… xxx

PS… In due course I will be opening my online shop and Paige, along with some of her small friends, will be up for adoption… I will let you know… xxx

Good morning Everybody. Is Everybody fine? Today’s little share is one of pure escapism. More shenanigans are afoot wouldn’t you know… Keep your eyes on the skies whilst we learn the of the latest…

Living on the Edge; Onward and Upwards…

Having worked in the offices of Slipshod, Claremont and Hussey, The Three Graces, as they had affectionately come to be known by their co-workers, decided that they had had enough.

Enough false positivity. Enough jargon. Enough ‘right ways to go about things’. Enough.

And so, at a quarter past ten this morning, just as a particularly disappointing new client made an entrance, the three friends agreed to stop blue-sky-thinking and exit to try blue-sky-living. So far it’s going very well. On a warm southerly breeze, they can currently be seen bibbing and bobbing as they drift over Lytham St Annes. As they go they are scattering fragments of an eon’s-worth of documents. If you are nearby and you happen to look up, you may think that you are seeing wayward confetti escaping a wedding ceremony. You know differently now but please, keep it to yourself. They were each supposed to give six months’ notice… xxx

Oh Coo-eee! Hello Everybody, how are you? Sorry not to have been by for a couple of weeks. I have missed you. Shall we have some tea whilst we catch up on the latest malarky and shenanigans of the Little Houses? There are some Hobnobs in the tin, do help yourself. I won’t partake as, lovely though they are, they always make me cough…

So, the Little Houses are on their travels again… Yesterday ‘The Story of Art’ an exhibition at Byard Art, Cambridge opened. Several pieces left the workshop together and very excitedly travelled to the gallery. Their behaviour, whilst probably not what one might call exemplary, has not been commented on and, as far as I’m aware, no one has been barred. Yet. Some of them even kept it together long enough to appear on video with Toby Hoten reading their story. Thank you Toby. I think guest story tellers might be the way to go… I wonder if Morgan Freeman is busy for next time…

Anyway, the exhibition runs until 16^th April so pop in if you can. There’s work by Alison Pullen, Alison Stockmarr, Carolyn Tripp, Elisabeth Lecourt, Emma Jean Kemp, Emma Taylor, Frances Bloomfield, J J Vincent and Lindsey Madden too.

In other news, some new Reel Lives have been put up for adoption with the beautiful madebyhandonline and this time, there are a couple of babies (thank you Karen Shapley for the reel donations) These Little Houses and their reels have been wonderful to work with. There wasn’t a single cross word between them and, I believe, that after they leave the workshop they will keep in touch forever. Unlike previous reel dwellers who shall be nameless but they know who they are…I think that’s it for now. I’ll let you know if I remember anything important…

Have a fabulous weekend and I’ll see you next week… xxx

Well good morning Everybody, did you sleep well? I am up and wide awake after a nightful of strange dreams which I can’t quite remember, but I know they were there… Today’s share is going to be part of an exhibition ‘The Story of Art’ at the beautiful Byard Art 16 Mar 2023 – 16 Apr 2023. So do pop that in your diary if you’re around.

Let’s settle down in the comfy chairs today with our tea and biscuits. There are more cushions and a blanket in the corner if you need. I think there will be much tutting and shaking of heads about this one…

Living on the Edge 201; End Game…

Tim, Tom and Tina had stolen the final paragraphs of the novels that had been quietly resting in the ‘to read’ pile next to the bedside table. They were mirthful in their homemade getaway car, giggling with glee at the trick they were playing. They’d show her, telling them to shush because she was reading. And the best bit was that, by the time she’d discovered their crime, they’d be miles away…

The sky looked moonful. The pranksters may well have been delighted with their deed but it was she, not they, who would have to deal with the fallout and the sleepless reader… xxx