The funniest thing!
Have you ever been talked into doing something
then afterwards think "what on earth did I do that
for".
It all started while having my hair cut. I should
have realised what was coming as the barber
introduced me to all in the shop as a fantastic
international sculptor. Mmmm, flattery disarms
the intended victim. Before I knew I had
volunteered to repair a pixie that had been
damaged by a vandal.
Now at this point I should explain the pixie in
question has been a landmark in the village of
Bovey Tracey from a time before I was born.
It graced the out side of a building called Pixie
Corner. Basically it takes the form of a relief
mounted on a concrete slab fixed to the out side
of the building. No delicate pixie this as it took
two of us to lift it!
I got it home in the boot of my car only to realise
that I could not lift it out of the boot by myself.
Ask a friendly neighbour I thought.
"I've a pixie in the boot of my car. Can you help
me get it out?" I asked.
"Why is it running to fast for you to catch?" He
replied.
At that point in time I should have understood
what the future of life with a pixie entailed.
After close inspection of the offending pixie I
concluded the only option was to take a mold
from it and create a fresh one. I got some plaster
and materials together then thought of what to
use as a releasing agent. Vaseline I thought,
cheapness being my main concern. So off to the
chemist I went.
"I would like some Vaseline please" I asked the
assistant. Who gave me that all knowing look
which made me feel a little awkward. She came
back with a tiny tub.
"Oh no" I stated, "I need a big tub. It is for a pixie
you see."
Now I blushed as the look from the assistant was
of disgust as she viewed the obvious pervert
stood in front of her.
"I need it to stop it sticking!" I stammered a bit to
loud and lacking conviction.
"Of course sir." The slamming of the pot on the
counter showed her feelings. She gave me my
change.
Out side I remembered I needed a receipt, It was
a real force of will to go back in.
I was rubbing the release agent onto the pixie
when I got a phone call from a client who asked
what I was up to.
"Rubbing Vaseline on a pixie." (Why do I say
things before I think)
"Oh does that stop them squealing?" He replied!
Enough said I think.
then afterwards think "what on earth did I do that
for".
It all started while having my hair cut. I should
have realised what was coming as the barber
introduced me to all in the shop as a fantastic
international sculptor. Mmmm, flattery disarms
the intended victim. Before I knew I had
volunteered to repair a pixie that had been
damaged by a vandal.
Now at this point I should explain the pixie in
question has been a landmark in the village of
Bovey Tracey from a time before I was born.
It graced the out side of a building called Pixie
Corner. Basically it takes the form of a relief
mounted on a concrete slab fixed to the out side
of the building. No delicate pixie this as it took
two of us to lift it!
I got it home in the boot of my car only to realise
that I could not lift it out of the boot by myself.
Ask a friendly neighbour I thought.
"I've a pixie in the boot of my car. Can you help
me get it out?" I asked.
"Why is it running to fast for you to catch?" He
replied.
At that point in time I should have understood
what the future of life with a pixie entailed.
After close inspection of the offending pixie I
concluded the only option was to take a mold
from it and create a fresh one. I got some plaster
and materials together then thought of what to
use as a releasing agent. Vaseline I thought,
cheapness being my main concern. So off to the
chemist I went.
"I would like some Vaseline please" I asked the
assistant. Who gave me that all knowing look
which made me feel a little awkward. She came
back with a tiny tub.
"Oh no" I stated, "I need a big tub. It is for a pixie
you see."
Now I blushed as the look from the assistant was
of disgust as she viewed the obvious pervert
stood in front of her.
"I need it to stop it sticking!" I stammered a bit to
loud and lacking conviction.
"Of course sir." The slamming of the pot on the
counter showed her feelings. She gave me my
change.
Out side I remembered I needed a receipt, It was
a real force of will to go back in.
I was rubbing the release agent onto the pixie
when I got a phone call from a client who asked
what I was up to.
"Rubbing Vaseline on a pixie." (Why do I say
things before I think)
"Oh does that stop them squealing?" He replied!
Enough said I think.
| The damaged pixie. With the broken parts replaced with plaster ready for the cast to be taken. |
| The final Pixie. Painted and varnished ready to be hung on the wall. |
| In location at Pixie Corner Bovey Tracey Devon |
 | |  |
| All text and pictures copyright of Edward Netley 2004 |