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Living on the Edge 193; Rock Bottom…

Hello Everybody, are you ready for a cup of tea and a good old fashioned biscuit? It’s the time of year when I begin to feel like gathering a hibernating kit together and finding somewhere warm and cosy to hide. I never actually do it but I am tempted. There is no time for such things as I will be opening my online shop soon and there is a great deal to be sorted out before that can happen. And I roll my eyes as I tell you that, of course, the little houses are being their usual helpful selves….

Living on the Edge 193; Rock Bottom…

“Cassandra? What ever are you doing?” enquired Hubert looking up from his book.

“Well,” said Cassandra, “ I have a feeling that we might be needing these pits soon, so I’ve just hollowed them out in preparation.”

“You and your confounded feelings!” replied Hubert dismissively and returned to reading. But as we are about to see, her work was indeed necessary and timely…

Two weeks earlier, Gideon had thrown caution out with the bathwater and, without prompting him to think the idea through, Polly had followed blindly. Their excitement bubbling up through their chimneys, rockers were ordered and they then droned on about how very bang on trend they would soon be.

The neighbours had looked on, not fully comprehending what was coming but well aware that it would most probably end in tears. It usually did. And then the rockers were fitted.

For the first hour Gideon and Polly were ecstatic with joy, rocking back and forth, giggling and whooping. But then, when they were exhausted, they quickly came to realise that they could not stop…

“I feel sick,” wailed Polly.

“Me too,” replied Gideon, alarmingly close to the edge.

Brenda, who had become the filling in a sandwich between the two of them, was beginning to feel a little nauseous herself as the two bounced to and fro squashing her in the process.

Next time Cassandra had a feeling, Brenda vowed she would do everything in her power to listen and assist… xxx

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Living on the Edge 192; Moving Story…

Good morning Everybody, happy Friday! First I want to thank everybody who gave last week’s deeply argumentative reels a home. Peace has reigned at the table since they left the building and I am eternally grateful. Thank you, I only hope they are behaving better now that they are separated…

For anyone who did want to rehome one and missed out, there will be more once I am over the fear of what I might be creating. I will let you know…

The tea is brewing and I’m wondering if we might be allowed to use the extra hour that we will be gifted over the coming weekend now. It’s no use to us in the middle of the night and, since there’s cake as well as tea today, it might be nice to take our time and enjoy it. What do you think? For anyone whose clocks are not going back this weekend, I’m happy to share our time with you. Stop the clocks and have a comfy seat because over on the table, it seems a Mills and Boon moment may be in the offing…

Living on the Edge 192; Moving Story…

Jake packed up his belongings half-heartedly. He had been watching the sky where Sophie was flying her kite again. He knew that, despite its cheerful colours, it meant the Sophie was unhappy. And when Sophie felt sad he felt sad too. In fact, whatever Sophie felt he could feel…

But, despite the depth of his empathy, Jake could not find a way to tell her that he loved her and, with each day that passed, it was becoming increasingly painful for him. Sometimes the feeling that he might burst was just too much to bear.

With so much emotion swirling, he hadn’t stopped to question why, on the day he was leaving, Sophie was so melancholy…

However, from her ledge at the foot of the mountain, Edna could see exactly what was happening: Jake’s love was not unrequited. Sagely she shook her roof. She was going to have to make the epic voyage up to the summit and give them both a good talking to. With great age came great wisdom, her work was never done… xxx

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Living on the Edge 19, Reel Lives…

Oh hello Everybody, this was going to be a joyous little post announcing the release of five new ‘Living on the Edge 19, Reel Lives…’ into the wild with the lovely Made By Hand Online. However, there was a sizeable to-do and hoo-hah following the choosing of the reels. An unbelievable amount of arguing ensued over who was going to stand with whom on which reel…

I did interrupt with my two penn’orth about how we could work together for the greater good, but to no avail. The sniping, shouting and sulking has carried on throughout the whole making process which is a shame. But no one seemed prepared to compromise or to entertain the idea that we might actually all be on the same side.

I overheard one of the smaller houses being coerced into standing on a colour that he clearly was unhappy with. I would have stepped in and said something but at the same time I could see, over on another reel, George was pushing Wendy over the edge. An action that George has since denied despite me seeing it with my own eyes…

Anyway, I have firmly put them all in their places and made them take vows of silence until such time as civility can be guaranteed.

In reality I don’t think that will happen until they are far, far away from one another. If you feel you can give a home to a reel please visit madebyhandonline.com. Thank you… xxx

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Living on the Edge 191; The Care Home…

Hello Everybody, what’s happening with you? Thank you to everyone who visited, chatted and bought at the exhibition. T’was lovely to meet people! We are back to the peace and quiet of the table today, so I’ve put the kettle on and I’m arranging the cushions. Tiggi’s here and she’s made some flapjacks so do take one and we’ll commiserate with the character in today’s little tale…

There’s a tiny video here if you fancy a twirl around the dance floor… (sound on)

Living on the Edge 191; The Care Home…

Maggie was restless. She couldn’t sleep, hadn’t done for days. The truth was that she had too much on her mind, too many souls to take care of and she was beginning to fall apart herself. But self-care was way down on her list of priorities. She had been promised some extra funding and so a new extension was in progress, with a dedicated mental health facility, however, it wasn’t happening soon enough.

“The problems won’t wait till there’s room for them you know,” she lamented as she filled in yet another application form. And, as if to prove her point, as she finished speaking the words, another broken spirit limped into view, tears streaming down his façade.

“Oh come here to me you poor wee devil,” cried Maggie. “ I’m sure we can find space for both you and your troubles. And we’ll see if we can’t work out a way through together, so we will.”

She poured another cup of tea, dished up another large helping of empathy and made room for one more under her over-crowded wing. Funding be damned, she couldn’t stop herself, she was going to save every last one of them, so help her… xxx

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Living on the Edge; Leaving Home

Good morning Everybody, are you ok? Being an artist is a funny thing. Sometimes I think it’s like being a parent. You put your heart and soul into what you make and then send it out into the world. Children will come back and forth bringing laundry and stories and maybe their own children… The little houses do not. They find their forever home and don’t look back.

And so, when there is an exhibition and a whole flock of them prepare to leave home at the same time, it is a bittersweet thing. Yesterday we set up our work at Artspace in Woodbridge knowing that some of it will not come home again.

Whilst I won’t miss the traumas and rows and general naughtiness of the little houses and I know they find lovely new homes, as they leave I still have a pang of sadness.

I will be at the exhibition this morning 10am – 1.30pm and at the meet the artists do this evening 6pm – 8.30pm. Also tomorrow all day 10am – 5pm. Do come by and say hello if you can. The whole shebang is on every day until 5pm on Wednesday 5th October.

Just before the boxing up the little houses jostled themselves into position, not without a great deal of bickering I might add, for a quick family snap which I am sharing with you today in case you can’t make it…

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

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Living on the Edge 190; The Gold Standard…

Well hello again Everybody, are you fine? By this time next week the little houses will be installed in their exhibition. Not a moment too soon said I, preparations have reached fever pitch and it’s one of those days when a lot is happening whilst very little is getting done. Do you know those days?

They will be at Artspace in Woodbridge

Thursday September 29th until Wednesday October 5th 2022 10:00 am –  5:00pm daily. There is a ‘Meet the Makers’ evening too on Friday 30 th September 6.00pm – 8.30pm.

I will be there on Thursday all day, Friday morning and Saturday all day so if you’re in the neighbourhood do pop in…

Today’s little share will also be present, if the participants can reach an agreement…

Living on the Edge 190; The Gold Standard…

Sherman stood right at the edge, where the pages met the outside world. Gingerly, he leant over to admire their golden sheen.

“How are they so effortlessly beautiful?” he asked aloud.

“This is not effortless,” whispered the nearest page angrily, miffed that it was being perceived as so.

“Each of us has to contribute and we work together in order to appear this way. Some days are easier than others but, make no mistake, this is achieved by sustained teamwork. And I will thank you to remember that,” it hissed.

Sherman had no idea that pages could be so tetchy. He apologised and stepped back a little. Awed by his newly acquired knowledge, he imagined his neighbourhood agreeing on a single goal and working harmoniously for the greater good. How glorious it would be…

Some distance behind him, an altercation kicked off and he briefly turned looking back at them, the neighbours. Then he laughed at his own naivety. They couldn’t even agree on whose turn it was to put the bins out… xxx

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Living on the Edge 189; Field of Dreams

Hello Everybody, it’s Friday again! How are you? Feels to me like September is going to gallop away if I’m not careful… Later this month I am taking part in an exhibition so the little houses are already preening and goading one another into misbehaving whilst I’m trying my hardest to concentrate.

Shall we pour some tea and settle in to hear what’s going on with this pair? I forgot biscuits so if you could lend me one that’d be marvellous…

Living on the Edge 189; Field of Dreams…

As the last of the sun’s rays sank behind the horizon, Martin stood proudly looking over his freshly ploughed land. “One day,” he said, “all this will be yours.” He didn’t look at Ben as he spoke but instead nodded to indicate what lay before them.

Ben had been meaning to speak to his father about the future for a good long while but the right moment had proved elusive. Until now. Now was perfect. Now it was being handed to him on a plate. But he did not take it.

Instead, he let the conversation turn to how well the onions were selling and then to the evening meal. Ben felt the window of opportunity gently close and with it, his chance to speak up vanished. There was no point pulling rain clouds over the autumn’s evening glow, besides which, he wasn’t yet sure exactly how he was going to go about becoming ‘Ben, Evolent Ruler of all Things’… xxx

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Living on the Edge 187; The Lost World…

Oh Coo-eee Everybody! Are you there? I promised I’d be back in September and here I am. How are you? ? Have you had a lovely summer? Whilst I’ve been away from posting I have been working with the little houses, making scenes and generally carrying on…

As a little welcome to September, let’s have a cup of tea and one of these little macaron thingies. Come on over to the table and I’ll spill the beans…

Living on the Edge 187; The Lost World…

Probably the best way to find things is to be not looking for them in the first place. And so it was with Valerie and Vaughan. They had joined Ramblers Anonymous in early January and this was their first group excursion abroad. A little ahead of the small party of walkers they stopped to admire the view.

“Ideal place for the picnic this,” said Vaughan. He had an eye for such things as he was usually thinking about when the next meal was going to be…

“Vaughan! Vaughan!” called out Valerie suddenly excited “Look! There’s writing on the floor!”

She had stumbled, disturbed some fallen leaves and rusty somethings and uncovered a fancy looking inscription in the process. The rest of the troop caught up and scuffed around helping to reveal more of what lay hidden……. How exciting! Eagerly, Valerie unpacked the sandwiches wishing she had a celebratory bottle of fizzy pop to uncork.

“Ham or cheese Vaughan? Vaughan! Are you listening?” she asked, irritated. But it was too late; Vaughan had, as they say, left the building. He was on the phone to the BBC and was rootling in his knapsack for a cleaner chimney in preparation for his inevitable appearance on the evening news. All he could hear was the title music playing and the newscaster’s voice booming:

“Voyager Vaughan and the greatest discovery since Machu Picchu”…

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Living on the Edge 186; Hope is the Thing With Feathers…

Hello Everybody, are you there? Have you survived the heat? If you’re not in the UK you will, perhaps, wonder what all the fuss is about as that kind of hotness may be normal where you are. But it is very not normal here and I for one nearly melted. It seems we may need some lessons in how to stay cool…

Anyway, that too has passed. Come and have a seat at the table with a cup of tea and a biscuit while we tell you the latest… The little houses and I have jointly decided to take a short break from posting over the summer which the CEO has kindly approved. We love your company, your comments, likes and support and we thank you for travelling along with us. We hope that you will re-join us when we return in September.

If you are out and about over the summer, little houses have been released into the wild in a few places in the UK: Byard Art in Cambridge, The White Chalk Gallery in Devizes, The Found Gallery in Dunbar and online with Made By Hand Online

In the meantime a hopeful little someone has this story for you…

Living on the Edge 186; Hope is the Thing With Feathers…

Emily’s week has not gone well. This is an understatement. Emily’s week has been absolutely dreadful. We won’t go into it now but chains of events have conspired to strangle her will to carry on.

On looking into Emily’s life, you would be forgiven for thinking ‘poor soul’. She has grown up without parents and has had to work very hard just to survive intact. She wears the scars of a life hard lived. She is married to an uncaring character who seems to be putting all his energy into making everyone else’s time on Earth difficult. Thankfully, he’s not here at the moment so Emily has some time just for herself.

But Emily wants neither our sympathy nor pity. This morning, although full of cold and utterly wrung out, she is sat snipping bits and pieces out of hand-me-down magazines and watching a bird preening itself in a shaft of sunlight. She is making a vision board. Emily has decided that it’s time to make some changes and improve her life… xxx

Ps: If you’d like a twirl, there’s one here (sound on please) xxx

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Living on the Edge 185; La Vie En Rose…

Well hello Everybody, how are you? This week the little houses have been hanging out, reading magazines and spouting all kinds of both helpful and not so helpful advice at me. They have told me what I ought to be wearing, what I should be eating and how my hair needs to be cut and coloured. I suggested that they have a good look at the sections about interiors to see if any of it applies to them. They are now quietly reflecting on this. Shall we have some tea and let this week’s tale unfold?

Living on the Edge 185; La Vie En Rose…

If there was one thing Marion loved more than anything in the whole wide world it was making things look better. She was a born stylist. It gave her a great feeling of satisfaction to know that she had improved a place with, say, a bit of paint here, a new shelf there or best of all; a complete make over…..

She wasn’t exactly what one would call bossy, she just knew how things should look.

Case in point: on Tuesday this week she began a three phase restyle of her neighbourhood. First she persuaded the sky to divide itself in two to form a colour block look which, she assured everyone, was very fashionable. On Wednesday, despite not quite having everyone on board, she set about wallpapering the lower third of the mountainside.

And then, as Thursday dawned, the villagers awoke to a written request to paint themselves a dark charcoal colour. All except Martin who was to be neon rose as an ‘accent colour’.

“More like a blot on the landscape,” huffed Martin “This is the last straw. Who does she think she is? Well, I am not having any more of her nonsense. I outright refuse to be an accent of any kind”…

Oh dear…

This piece is currently in residence at The White Chalk Gallery in Devizes if you’re over that way this weekend and want to visit. xxx