Folksy Friday: SQUEAK! and a confession

Remember that silly attempted robbery I told you about a week ago?
I have had loads of TLC since then, some really good stuff and some of it just plain wrong.
The good stuff came, in the first place, from The Man.
He always picks me up after work anyway, regardless of the fact that my shop is just a stone- throw away from home. Boy, how I love him for that.
But ever since that "fateful" day, he has been even more considerate, even more protective, even more "I'll run you a bath and light some candles" than usual. How blessed am I?
The second source for good stuff are my colleagues, some of whom have been victims to "proper" robberies. Slap on the shoulder, chin up, we're on the same team. Love it.
Let's not forget you guys, my beloved readers. You were awesome, giving me thumbs- up and all sorts of support. I'm seriously busy counting my blessings here.

The wrong kind of TLC comes frome fancy suits a couple of tiers above me who just follow procedure and offer help and an open ear when it is blatantly obvious that their mobile phone will be switched off when I need them for even the mundanest of enquiries, totally unrelated to pathetic teenage robbers. Gimme a break and cut the cr@p, guys, save your energy for getting your blackberry to work.

Today, I was emptying a machine right next to the door after joking with my manager about how ironic it would be to get robbed again. It had been a dead night up until then, no customer in ages.
So, I was busy getting the change out when all of a sudden the shop door opened- and I nearly had a heart attack.
Big mouth, tough attitude, nothing gets to me... but I nearly wet my pants.
It was just a customer, a normal, every- day- annoy- my- socks- off- at- this- time- of- night customer, but for a second, I kinda lost it, shaky hands and all.

Which made me laugh. And think.

After all, I'm not hard as nails. But don't tell anybody, guys, because now I've got a reputation, and I'd be devastated to see it go.
Well, so much for confession time, I thought I might as well share it after letting you in on mustard floorboards and 8 year old Lotus Ravenmoores.

Are you prepared for a shopping spree? Because it's this time of the week again. Folksy Friday.
I would like to share with you the cutest rodents you could possibly imagine (well, in my book, anyway)- step aside, Dr Dolittle, and make a little room for the Folksy Troop of Rats and Mice.
(click the pic to take you straight to the shop!)

 

In memory of all my rainbow mice and rats, here's to us, guys. You made my life a happier place, and I'll see you all over the rainbow. Thanks for being the wonderful companions were. SQUEAK.

Let me tell you about face paint.

Face paint creates joy. It creates disguises. It creates art. It creates a helluva lot of mess.
But most of all, it creates photo opportunities.

Do you guys happen to know Terry Pratchett? He is my favourite author EVER, and I proudly claim this after spending my teenage years buried under Stephen King books. IT still bloody scares me.
Anyway, Terry Pratchett. Without taking you too far into it, let me just tell you that, amongst a world of other stuff, he wrote about a bunch of pictsies (sic) called the Nac Mac Feegle, otherwise known as the Wee Free Men.

They look like this:

Okay, keep this in mind.
Now... The man has started playing a game on Facebook called CastleAge. Like many games on FB, it is a bit like "the more, the merrier", which means you end up with loads of friends playing it, too.
The man created a "guild" within the game, calling it "Wee Free Men", as I have infected him a little bit with the Pratchett bug.
Do you follow so far, or is it just tumbleweed being blown across my blog?
He promised his guild members that if they achieved a certain goal, he would turn into a Nac Mac Feegle.
If you remember the post title- here's where the face paint comes in.

Feegle:

The Man:

Okay, so this is the first half of my post on face paint.

The second half is dedicated not to The Man, but his beautiful offspring, Abi.
She came 'round this weekend to spend some quality time, terrify the cats, make our ears bleed and get her face painted. Err.

Daddy introduced her to the wonderful world of CastleAge (no, she does NOT spend any time on Facebook yet!) and decided to turn her into one of the games' characters, Lotus Ravenmoore.

This is how it went:

In the last few pictures, Abigail (who is 8 and one of the most gorgeous kids you could imagine, inside and out) wears my furry coat, a charity shop belt and a scythe plus clawy glove her dad made for her.
The whole thing cost about £2.50 for the face paint and zero for the costume.

Heck, guys, this is a normal days' work. Can you imagine the terrors that await this blog at Hallowe'en??
I did not edit out any of the horrors of our living room, just so you know. Yes, there are bare mustard- coloured floor boards and yes, the mantelpiece and shelves could do with decluttering. But I wouldn't want our life any other way, mustard floor boards and all.

So go on, give your little ones a lick of paint. You might enjoy yourself even more than they do, for the price of a fashion magazine that'll be outdated before the next issue comes out.

I've been robbed! plus Folksy Friday

Day before yesterday, about 8.45 pm, some little ASBO kid really spoiled my last hour at work.
I was emptying a gaming machine and had a bowl full of change next to me when that little *insert swear word of choice here* burst through the door, face covered and in full teenage ASBO gear, snatched the bowl and tried to leg it.
Not with me, can't be having that.
So I grab the bugger by his hoodie and try to hold him.
He drops the bowl and about £130 in change go flying all over the little parking lot in front of the shop.
Kid manages to break free and actually TURNS AROUND to consider picking up the loot.
I went straight for him again and he finally legged it for good.
I managed to pick up pretty much all the money before two babyfaced coppers arrived to take my statement.
Hometime was delayed by about 90 minutes- I was not a happy bunny! Only cheered up when the district manager told me that it's company policy to give an employee who had been robbed the following day off. How cool is that? :D
I am really glad that not every teenager in Leeds seems to be carrying a knife, but I was so mad when this *insert swear word again* grabbed the bowl that knives were the last thing on my mind.
Here's to stupidity.

Now, let me take you shopping. It's Folksy Friday again!

Given my latest adventure, my collection is inspired by cops, robbers and money, money, money.

A click on the picture will take you straight to the shop!

Right, guys... you'll be busy shopping for a bit now, but please never forget to be safe.
I'm an idiot who was extremely lucky to encounter the most pathetic robber ever, but you should know better.
Don't be as daft as me and keep safe AT ALL TIMES. Because I luv ya.

Charity is sexy!

... or: how to sell stuff on the BAT of an eyelid.

Did you know that ghosts are sexy? Here's The Man to prove the point. 

My stay- ups never encountered legs more hairy. I am German. And what is that cat doing?


Those of you who read my previous ghostie posts might know that I am on a spooky trip. And during a very enjoyable eMail- exchange with Pam from gingerbrad snowflakes, I pledged to sort of donate my wee ghosties to charity.

Well, it is all done now.
Today, I made ten pairs of ghostie earrings and listed them in my Folksy shop.
They are £2.50 each and are free of P&P.
For every sold pair I will donate £2.50 to the Bat Conversation Trust, because as I might have mentioned before, bats are just plain gorgeous in my book.

So, if you feel like spookifying yourself AND do something amazing to help saving those impressive, unobtrusive, helpful, inspiring creatures, get your PayPal ready.

What you will get is a pair of these:

and what you will help save is this:

If this isn't win- win, I don't know what is.

Folksy Friday: I begin to spookify!

The title is "my" version of The Disturbeds "Stupify"- love that song.

I have decided that my wee ghosties will have to go on a field trip to Folksy. Whatever money they make will go to charity since they didn't cost me a penny to make; stay tuned for the grand announcement when they hit the shop! :)

Now, let's see what my fellow Folksy friends have in store to spookify our lives. A bootiful collection to inspire you and show off the great talent that's out there.

Come with me and don't be afraid- these spooks are harmless!

As usual, a click takes you straight to the respective shop.
Go on, buy handmade- because you know it makes sense!

Bootorial for the wee ghosties!

Told you... there's more to come.

The wee ghosties I showed you were white because I had to paint them. I had to paint them because I burned them. I burned them because the model clay, FIMO, I used was bought in Germany donkeys years ago and did not quite accomodate for gas marks. Boo. Hoo.

What I originally intended was this:

A badly taken picture of The Blob.
Or a glowinthedark ghost.

Wanna make your own Blob wee ghostie?
It couldn't be easier, promise.

What you'll need:

Some model clay (I was lucky enough to have glow- in- the- dark FIMO in my ancient stash), something to roll it out on, something to roll it out with, a headpin (or eye pin or some wire, whatever you have), a bead and, conveniently, some round- nose pliers. Don't have any? Never mind, I bet you can improvise.

So, what's the science behind summoning ghosts?

Take a little chunk of your modelling clay, soften it up, form a ball and flatten it real flat. Like...flat- flat. If you have a can of BUAV approved deodorant (the slim one many gals have in their purse anyway), that's great.
Use the lid to cut out a circle.

Now, thread the bead on your eye pin and punch it through the middle of your FIMO circle, like this:

Carefully coherse the FIMO disc around the bead. It will, if you do it gently enough, ghostify itself.

Now bang it in the oven to bake (if you burn it, you better have paint ready!!) and either use a thin sharpie marker or acrylic paint to give the wee bugger a face.

You can, if you have managed not to burn yourself or your ghosties, now attach them to some earwires and either give them away (as I will tomorrow to my bestest- loved colleague Barbara) or keep them for yourself.

See, told you it was easy!

You can make pendants, garlands, decorations, cat toys (okay, better not.) and favours.
Have fun, and let me know if you help growing the ghost population. I would absolutely LOVE to see yours, now that I've showed you mine!

I would like to thank my family, the academy, our postman and all the unnamed FIMO sweatshop workers who made all this possible.
And, on second thought, maybe even The Man whose eyes lit up yesterday when I started ghosting away, when I was a little embarrassed about my own pleasure about how well they turned out. He told me he loved them. And me.
If it wasn't for him, there'd be no wee ghosties.
Thanks, babe. I love you too.

Happy haunting!