The painted ladies birdhouse is almost complete and only needs a few touch-ups; this is the last photo I’ll share. Not too shabby given the inferior quality of the wood and my general ineptitude.
This morning I worked on techniques for achieving an ‘aged’ look with paint. I’d like to make an abandoned mining town with rusted shotgun shacks and crumbling company houses, but will need help gluing pieces this tiny. You can’t tell from the photo but this is only 1″ x 3″ and fits in the palm of your hand. The roof still needs some work but I’m happy with everything else.
Here is the keeper’s kit that I just opened. My color scheme will be different than the manufacturer’s photo; I’m taking inspiration from Maine’s Portland Head Light for the cottage and its lighthouse. This is a half-scale model and I should be able to do all the gluing solo.
A lifetime ago, Ex and I were going to move to Maine and marry. And then, on November 4, 2009, voters chose to repeal a state law granting same-sex marriage rights. It was devastating to many, and as my former partner wept that night I simmered with impotent rage — the most annoying kind — at again being treated like a second-class citizen. It’s a feeling that’s still never far from the surface; I don’t think marriage equality is currently safe in the United States.
In a parallel project that will take much longer to complete, I’ve begun plotting a miniature replica of my current house. I want to do this because it’s the sort of house we always dreamed of owning and now I question how long we’ll live here. If we have to downsize to something more accessible or I end up in assisted living earlier than expected, or if we separate and I eventually move out, it would be a meaningful memento to have.
While I strategize about how to organize this — whether to cobble together individual rooms or create a whole-house shell — I’ve settled on a 1:12 scale and am determining what I’ll need to craft myself, like custom windows and built-in radiators, and what’s easier to purchase. Here are some side-by-sides, starting with a bit of flooring:
A wooden bowl that belonged to my grandmother and now sits in my office:
Planters, currently barren but soon to spring to life*:
Oh, and this is James. I don’t have a photo of the genuine article, but he’s our neighbor. His mom laughed when I showed her Tiny James; I envision him on the opposite side of the fence from Muriel as they bark at each other. Muriel’s a mix who looks more Boxweiler than American Eskimo (despite her oft-curled tail) and most miniature figures are purebreds, so I’ve not yet found her surrogate. Crankenstein’s been searching, though, and has a lead we’ll follow.
Crankenstein also went from saying “dollhouses are creepy” — she was reminded of The Dollhouse Murders — to browsing a catalog of model home kits and suggesting I build her a log cabin next. For the record, I don’t consider any of this to be in dollhouse territory (and doubt she does, either); it’s not stuffy or Victorian and there won’t be any dolls. It’s more of an architectural model or diorama sort of thing.
* It’s a constant battle to keep Muriel from slaughtering whatever smaller creatures happen into our backyard; she has a much higher prey drive than her foster moms realized. A couple years ago, a rabbit stashed her babies in the first of those planters. Muriel audaciously raided the nest, whose existence we’d been unaware of, while leashed. I’m not sure who screamed more as I wrestled her away from them, me or the terrified kits. My voice disappears when I try to scream, so the kits were probably louder, which is quite disturbing considering they’re usually silent unless under duress.
As an endnote to this footnote, one of the surviving kits is now an adult who still lives in our yard. We think she’s moderately brain damaged; she’s undersize and seemingly lacks a survival instinct. But I also entertain the notion that she’s conning Muriel with the eventual goal of avenging the death of her sibling, which would make Muriel Beatrix Kiddo and the bunny Vernita Green’s daughter from Kill Bill.