Wednesday, June 24, 2009
The Doll House
For awhile I've been thinking about getting a doll house. I scanned on-line sites, thinking I'd buy a doll house kit, which is a popular way of buying a new doll house, but all those little pieces put me off.
When I was a kid I had one of those tin doll houses with the rugs and wallpaper stamped on. It came with hollow plastic furniture all in one color. You can buy them now on eBay and I saw one in a local antiques store and almost bought it. But I wasn't quite ready, and it wasn't quite what I wanted.
Then in late April my dollhouse found me at the Methodist church rummage sale. It was ten dollars, and like some of the treasures I bring home, it needed a little love. Michael thought I was crazy, but he humored me and carried it to the car. He's good that way. He doesn't care much what I do as long as I'm happy.
A broken down doll house is full of possibilities. Each flaw is an opportunity for something new and wonderful.
The back roof of this one was dilapidated cardboard. The staircase is missing, and the interior is dark and full of wood veneer.
The outside is mismatched: a hodge podge of broken trim and unfinished details. I'm guessing it was a kit from the 80s. It's structurally sound, but it needs a face lift.
But what will it be? An artist's getaway? An idealized childhood home? A 60s college rooming house? It's full of choices, full of dreams and possibilities.
I'm going to chronicle my doll house rehab in the next few posts. I've finished the exterior face lift, and as soon as I order the new staircase, I'll start in on the interior. I'll buy furniture last. Watch to see how it turns out.