Disaster inspection

As some of you, my dear readers, already know, my large Victorian house, Womble Hall, was badly damaged during relocation from the UK to Sweden. It's too late to complain because it has been in storage for almost a year, and even if I could get compensation, the damage is done, and no money can replace it. I am particularly frustrated because the movers packed chairs and tables in layers upon layers of cardboard, while they transported the delicate dollhouse without any protection at all! But there is nothing I can do about it, so I am pretending that Womble Hall was bombed during the Blitz and has to be restored to its former glory. The former glory, by the way, is this:

On the outside:

And this is what I got out of storage

I considered sitting down and crying, but it wouldn't be of much help. This house has cost me more money in kit and material than I am prepared to confess, as well as about 2000 hours of work so I am grateful I got it over in one piece - well, almost. I anticipate the repairs will take many, many hours, and I will take it easy and enjoy it just as I enjoyed building it before. Maybe I can make improvements. Maybe I can re-decorate, as they would have after the Blitz. On this positive note, some closer inspection. It is much, much worse than it looks. The lights do not work of course; several windows are smashed, floors are broken, wallpaper torn.

One of my cats immediately discovered the perfect hiding place. This is a classic: cat in a dollhouse. Something from a horror movie.

I have now barred the front door with a piece of cardboard because he did some further damage in the room. I can't imagine how this huge cat can squeeze through the tiny door - and turn round! Cats are amazing.

It took me weeks to approach the house because I really didn't know where to start. I then decided to start from the attic because it seemed the least damaged. I couldn't be more wrong, because that's when I discovered that the roof has gone off. It's a miracle they didn't lose it altogether. So I removed it, but I know I won't be able to put it back on my own.

 

Two dormers are falling off, two window sills are missing, the ceilings are torn, and on the outside tiles are missing. That will be the easiest to replace. So far I have put the roof away in my store room, safe from the cats.

Then I stared at the attic for a long time, again not knowing where to start.

 

I decided to restore one room at a time, so that when I have done one room I will see the result. This is how I worked last time round, even if it meant that I had to remove objects from rooms every now and then. And I decided to start with the room that seemed in need of least work, the guest bedroom on the right.

More than two years ago I wrote a series of blog posts showing the various rooms in Womble Hall, which will now be very helpful in restoring them. Here is the guest bedroom, although I have made some changes, including new fabric on the canopy.

As I said in that post, the floor in the guest room is still made from self-adhesive paper, admittedly in a sophisticated pattern, but my intention was to replace it with hardwood at some point. I considered whether this was the right point and decided against it. It takes about 50 hours to make an interesting floor for a room this size, and at the moment I'd rather use these hours to make more repairs. When the house is fully restored, I will make new floors. I know this probably goes against common sense, but I do want to see the house in presentable shape soon.

So I did some cosmetic repairs: glued on wallpaper and mouldings that had got off, straightened the floor, and that was it. I think the room is inhabitable now - apart from the roof of course. The beam is hiding the light strip so it will either have to be mended or removed. I suspect that lighting technologies have developed since we wired the house four years ago.

Also against common sense I put back as much of the furniture and accessories as I could find in my storage boxes. The four-poster was also slightly damaged, but it was easy to mend. I will have to remove everything when it comes to putting back the roof, but meanwhile there is one room at Womble Hall where poor residents can live, and there is even a portable heater to keep them warm.

To be continued.

Re-calibrating

I have moved again. (If you wonder why I keep moving and downsizing, it's a sad story, and you don't want to know the details, but it wasn't by choice). I am now renting a furnished flat, which means that I have to adapt to the available furniture and arrange my workspace to the best of my abilities. It also means that still more of my stuff had to go to storage, and I only brought one box of supplies. I packed in haste, and it's funny to discover how randomly I chose what to bring and what to store. I have the most essential tools, but my cutting mat is elsewhere. I have paint, glue, fabric, paper - enough to do some projects. And I have a hobby shop close by.

When you live in somebody else's space it takes time before you can, first mentally, then physically, re-arrange it to your liking and your needs. Obviously, a folding table makes a perfect workbench, and if I ever have guests who require a coffee table, I can quickly put everything away. But the best thing about this place is that I don't have to clear it away every night.

My landlady has kindly given me one and a half book shelf, in a corner closest to the floor, but as I haven't brought any of my books - you see where my priorities are! - most of my Really Useful Boxes can just about be squeezed in. And I start by going through them to see what I actually have brought.

Maybe this is the time when I will choose projects based on supplies. All those saved posts from Facebook, when I thought: Yes, I can make it some time. Now is the time.

I have brought a small selection of kits that will keep me busy for a while.

And I have also brought a few pieces that I bought at a car boot sale just before I moved.

The broken dressing table begged for my attention. Apologies for poor picture quality - I haven't yet adjusted to the light in this place.

 

It is one of those pieces that are sort of ok, but crude, and the finish is dull. To do it properly you need to remove the varnish, for which I have neither space nor equipment, so I just sanded it and then painted. I haven't taken step-by-step pictures because it was quite straightforward. I painted with brown paint first and then antique white, with golden details. I distressed it a bit.

The only problem was painting around the drawer pulls. They seem to be glued on rather than attached with nails so I didn't risk removing them.

I also lined the drawers with Japanese paper.

 

This piece wouldn't win a prize at a miniature fair, but it was fun to upcycle a boring piece into something more exciting, and it was a good way of getting back into the making mode.

In a kitchen drawer I found some string - an opportunity too good to miss.

 

I am thoroughly thrilled with my first day back miniature making. I wasn't aware that I had missed it so much these past weeks. I am looking forward to many great projects even before I eventually get a place of my own with a HUGE hobby room.

Downsizing

I have been silent for long while, and for a reason. Two weeks after my last post I unexpectedly and hastily had to move from my large house to a small flat. Apart from the physical stress, the emotional part of it was so strong that I almost threw away all my dollhouses, room boxes, unfinished projects, tools and supplies. It could have been a disaster.

I had occasionally considered what I would do with the dollhouses if we for some reason decided to or needed to move, and even what I should write in my will concerning the dollhouses. Even without considering all efforts, there is a fortune hidden inside that people might not realise. (I make most things from trash, but I have a few really valuable pieces). Yet it was of course rather abstract, something I could dismiss for a while.

Dollhouses were not my highest priority when I moved, and my first impulse was to get rid of everything, although I didn't quite envision how. I did throw away a lot of recyclables, I gave away boxes of quality supplies to a school, but since I didn't have much time to do the sorting and discarding, fortunately I didn't get through it all. A young colleague was concerned about my well-being, and although she quite realistically understood that I could not bring my dollhouses to my little flat, she suggested that I bring something: some supplies, some tools, to keep myself busy during long, lonely evenings. I am glad I listened to her, because bringing even a tiny portion of my miniature stuff proved to make a difference. And it turned out that, because I don't have a lot of possessions, there was plenty of room, more that it seemed at first.

I now live in a student accommodation. It has plenty of shelves. It is meant for academics who have many books. I have most of my books in my office, which is just around the corner. The few books I brought with me, books I re-read regularly and some I keep for sentimental reasons, took half a shelf.

The rest I could fill with miniatures. I brought four room boxes, having measured carefully that they fit into shelves. I feel happy looking at them. Declutter prophets say that you should only keep things that make you happy. I brought some of my favourite Chippendale pieces and some other favourite items, and although I cannot make proper rooms, they look nice in the shelves.

As you can see I brought all my Chippendale kits, about sixty of them. If I make one piece every weekend – which I don't – they will last until next September. I brought my tools, paints, stains and supplies. In my previous life, I didn't have a designated hobby room either, so there isn't much difference, just that my desk is smaller and generally there is less space. But there is enough to make some miniatures. Here are some things I have made since I downsized. 

 

This has not solved the problem of the dollhouses left behind, and sooner or later I will have to deal with them. But it is another story.

Moving a dollhouse

I have now come to the saddest moment in my story. I mean, in my dollhouse story. On April 9, 2008 I got a new job. A great job, but it involved moving from Sweden to England which was a huge move in every respect. This is when I started writing my other blog, and this is what I wrote on July 1. All the way from April until August when we moved I pretended that whatever was happening in my 1:1 life did not concern my dollhouse life, and I went on building straircases that I knew very well would soon have to be pulled down. We were moving to a very small rented house, but I knew that the dollhouse had become so important that I had to hold on to it. I waited until the very last possible moment to tear the dollhouse down, but eventually I had to do it. I took pictures of dismantling it - a reverse process of building, but I deleted them afterwards because it was so sad.

Out of our seventy moving boxes, three were filled with my dollhouse things. Not only furniture, dolls and all the small things, neatly wrapt, but all materials: the famous venetian blinds, photo frames, building blocks, beads, fabrics, lolly sticks, chopsticks, buttons, paint, glue, brushes, craft knives. This is what I wrote about packing.

I didn't know whether I would be able to rebuild the dollhouse, or even whether I would have space to do it, or whether I would have time to do it. Until I got the job, I was on sick leave, and miniature making was a life line and the best therapy. 

However, since I am writing this, the story obviously had a happy ending. Or, rather, it is a neverending story.