Everyone is entitled to their follies!
Jun. 2, 2011 7:14 am
Updated: Sep. 5, 2013 1:22 pm
This past winter I was browsing in a junk shop on a slushy, gray day, and came across a large dilapidated doll house stuck in the back room. Something about it attracted me. I never had a doll house when I was a child, and I played with all sorts of dolls
a lot then. My parents were not ones to buy a lot of toys for us; Christmas and birthdays only were time for recieving toys (cue violins). I lived vicariously through my best friend, who always had the newest and best toys: Easy Bake Oven, Betsy Wetsy, a
real Barbie, a high-quality hula hoop, and she never lost the key to her skates.
But to get back to the doll house, as I was looking at it, these thoughts were going through my head: Oh, I like this...too bad it's just sitting here wasting away...the girls would love it...maybe I could fix it up?...no, you know how you are, you'd never
finish it...yes, I would!...no, you wouldn't!...it's $30...that's not too bad for a doll house this big...yeah, but you could buy groceries or socks with that $30...oh, stop being such a stick-in-the-mud, buy it!...well, I don't think so...walk away...
So I did walk away, but that doll house kept coming back into my thoughts as the next few weeks went by. It would just pop into my head, and I would think about that poor doll house sitting all by itself in the back room, alongside the old magazines, rusty
food tins, cracked pitchers, candlesticks with old wax on them and bookends with no partners. Poor house. It needed some little hands rearranging furniture and moving people around in it. It needed to sit in a room on a rainy or cold day and have the company
The next Saturday, my husband asked me what I wanted to do that day. I blurted out: I want to go buy an old doll house that I saw a few weeks ago and fix it up. I thought he would laugh, but he didn't. He smiled and said: Well, go get it! I said: But, it's
$30, and I might buy it and never follow through, and it will just sit there cluttering the basement. He said: Oh, go get it. So what if that's all that happens. Everyone is entitled to their follies.
So he went with me to help get it in the car, and the faded doll house that had seen better days came home to live with me.
The next few months I spent the occasional hour or two every few days down in the basement listening to the radio and working on the doll house. I had no idea what I was doing, but I cleaned, ripped things out, painted, used joint compound, glued and decorated
it. I discovered Hobby Lobby; a place that is a wonderland to crafty people. And I found that there evidently is a whole subculture of doll house enthusiasts who spend a lot of money on their hobby. The furniture for the doll house was going to cost me
more than the actual house! So I got some on eBay and made some of it myself (the little beds). Then I had to find people. I finally found some that suited me. I wasn't thrilled with the way the grandma looked, but you can't have everything!
Finally I was ready to unveil my handiwork to my two granddaughters. What if they didn't like it and I spent all that time for nothing? Not to worry; I didn't even have to point it out to them, they spotted it and
ran to play.
Well, this is the end of this blog. Please look at the photos of my endeavors. I hope by now you have figured that the moral of this is, go ahead and follow a whim now and then. Don't worry about wasting a little money or time, don't listen to the negative
person in your brain discouraging you from trying something new. Go ahead and do it. Everyone is entitled to their follies!
Doll house front, before.
Doll house interior, before.
Doll house beds, unfinished. I made these using my American ingenuity.
Doll house beds, finished. I used washable, non-toxic paint for these.
Doll house people. I DO NOT look like that grandma! And neither does grandpa!
Doll house front, after.
Doll house interior, after.