I got a pair of these peacock and white on cobalt lattacino coil plugs from Frozenfire several years ago in 8mm (pictured left, at the top), and never got round to getting a bigger pair. That it, until I was randomly browsing Etsy and found another pair in my size -- it was like it was meant to be. I quickly snagged them, did an excited little dance, and then started the horrible process of waiting for a package to get here from the States. It only took about 10 days and now they're here, in my ears where they should be.
Absolutely love these plugs, they're not only stunning gorgeous but are wonderfully comfortable as well. They are a tiny bit heavy due to the glass (I generally like them light, as I'm an old fart and am starting to get slightly saggy lobes, despite regular massages) but they're so pretty that it's a trade-off I will happily accept. Will definitely be getting more, and soon.
Tuesday, 26 August 2014
Monday, 25 August 2014
Anyway, I used to make clay things, rocks and Garden Jedis (pictured below, right) to destress before I made plugs, but the weather was too rubbish to make the Garden Jedis :( Polymer clay doesn't care about weather, so that came out and I made some swirly ear hangies. Made quite a lot of them, in fact, kept quite a lot of those, and am selling the rest on Etsy.
The Big Stompy Bootique Etsy Shop can be found here -- have a look through if you have stretched ears and fancy some swirly ear hangies to wear in through your eyelets :) I'll also be putting some other things on there at some point, like other jewellery and Garden Jedis, maybe some vintage 80s clothing, once I've got rid of the urge to make swirly things while watching the telly.
Wednesday, 13 August 2014
Anyway, heels were retired and boxed up, ready for eBay, when I tripped over a boot. Not a heeled boot, mind, but the flattest one I had, like the one in the piccie. A shite boot. Landed on my toe, it made an unpleasant noise and now I can't walk properly. So I'm sulking and blogging about it, cos I can't do a lot else at the moment :( Isn't irony fun?
Tuesday, 5 August 2014
They're all 8mm / 0g pyrex glass -- some of them are double flared, the rest of them are single flared with no o-rings included. They've been cleaned thoroughly (not autoclaved, though you can autoclave these) and haven't been worn for absolutely years, they've just been sitting in a drawer with a look of abandonment and dejection on their beautiful little faces :'(
Let's go through them, shall we?
Fancy buying some of these or want some better pictures? Send us an email to plugs (at) bigstompyboot.co.uk, and I'll get you sorted :) Shipping is £2 UK, £4 Rest of the World, and I will combine shipping on these if you wanted more than one pair :)
Monday, 4 August 2014
A few years ago, we were decorating the house and admiring the Victorian quirks that are prevalent throughout -- y'know, wonky walls and doorways, lath and plaster ceilings, big skirting boards. We started wondering about who lived there just after it was built 100 years ago, what they did, how they lived, and who were they?
Whilst looking at house prices, we asked the internet about the house and the internet provided answers, many from the Herts At War website and Genes Reunited. They were sad answers, though, as we found that a family called Heskins lived here. Dad died in 1901, aged 28, leaving Mrs Heskins and her son Henry, who would have been a toddler at the time. Henry grew up went on to go to the trenches of World War One, where he died aged 19 -- the same age as my son at the time.
I tried to imagine sending my son off to the trenches, and it filled me with a whole metric tonne of mummysad. I get a bit teary thinking of it now. Poor Mrs Heskins, she must have been beside herself with worry :(
So, anyway, I like to remember the Heskins, especially today as it's the centenary of World War One. I feel a bit maternal towards young Henry for some reason, and tremendously sad at the terrible waste of life -- not only young Henry, but the rest of the poor lads who went. They probably went off to war with their mates out of a sense of duty, and for the adventure, babes, glory and camaraderie, like you do when you're young. Instead they had to face up to the reality of unimaginable horror, violence and death.
I will visit his grave in Calais one day (pictured above, credit: findagrave.com). It just seems right.
Saturday, 2 August 2014
This is what age does to you, it steals your skills and replaces them with grey hairs, hot flushes and a yearning to start growing vegetables.