once upon a time...

My photo
keswick, cumbria, United Kingdom
Once upon a time when no one was looking because dark glasses were in that autumn, and no one was listening because the popular music of the time was loud and brassy, the key to life was stolen by two no good good for nothing partners in crime who passed it on with sly winks and too much blusher to the only cat they knew who was up with the jive talk and down with the kids. if all goes to plan she’ll sling it to the back of her knicker drawer and it won’t see the disco lights again, until one day in the winter when the clouds fall like rain and the word on the streets is bring on the black hole, because as everybody knew all along this was only ever just a temporary measure...

Saturday 7 January 2012

a list of things that happened last night in the hour before closing time:

i took part in a heated debate about turkish ebay, 
i helped perform the first minor surgery that has ever been carried out in the workshop which involved the removal of a ladies nose ring from her nose cartilage where it had become stuck.(i helped from a distance with my eyes closed. i mainly shouted encouragement and boiled water)
i endured a conversation with a grown man on the properties of antique leather buttons, including but not confined to the quality of their fastening loops.
i served and chatted to for the second time that day, the old lady who i care about greatly, but who stretches the limits of my cordiality by coming in the shop TWICE A DAY EVERY DAY requiring undivided attention and access to close personal space, regardless of workloads, other customers, fire and/or flooding. 
i made hot chocolate with cream for the lovely little girl whose mum was upstairs performing surgery on her own nose, and we talked about dog towels,
i removed all our christmas displays,
i stretched replacement stock canvases,
i designed some new big bear bunting (see print layout below)
i locked the doors and flipped the signs and gave myself a stern lecture on the merits of online businesses run from home.