Handmade Friends
The Dollhouse Chronicles
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The Dollhouse Chronicles
Tales from Dollhouses
Beth Ward
12/13/2008
The following is a series of short stories written about and for Dollhouses and Dollhouse Scale Miniatures, and the dolls that live in Dollhouses.
107 Ruth Drive
Christmas Eve, 1972
It was a cold night in Southwestern Louisiana and snow was beginning to cover the ground. It was a very rare occurrence in this part of the world, but a white Christmas is always a wonderful thing. The little girl lay sleeping in her bed, dreaming of dolls and dollhouses and the fabulous adventures that only a four year old girl could on Christmas Eve. Belinda had only gotten over her fear of Santa Clause that year was excited about getting up early on Christmas Morning to see what wonderful surprises awaited her under the Christmas tree.
Belinda climbed out of bed and ran to the living room, following her big sister, Lydia’s example. There it was, even more wonderful than she imagined, it was her very first dollhouse. The house was made of metal. The outside had a brick façade. Red bricks, a green roof, a big bay window and many smaller windows made of white plastic. It was a two story house with a chimney. It also had a balcony with a white railing and a trellis with roses. She turned it around and there were so many rooms, eight in all. The front door opened to the living room and the stairs. Each room was furnished with plastic furniture. And she had new Barbie dolls to play with in her new house and the Sunshine Family. This was one happy little girl and a very happy dollhouse.
As the years went by the dollhouse realized it wasn’t being lived in. It was loved, but not lived in. The house on Ruth Drive was no more than a back drop, a set in the movie production of a little girl’s dramatic imagination. A prop…
Time went by and the girl was growing up and Belinda just didn’t have time to visit the old house anymore. Not that she’d ever taken very good care it. She’d thrown it around and was really rough on it. The roof was dented, the furniture was broken and a lot of it was missing. The windows had been pulled out, the stairs and the trellis with the roses had been cast aside and lost. Rust was starting to take hold and ruining the paint job.
Belinda had outgrown the need for the house. But the house never forgot its early days. Because it loved Belinda and had watched her grow, it had always been there for her; it was heartbroken when Belinda’s mother packed it away to be hidden in the attic for what might be, the rest eternity.
From its location in the attic the dollhouse could hear all the conversations and life it wasn’t to be a part of. When the family moved, the box it was stashed away in was loaded in and out of trucks and again placed in the attic of unpacked, but memorable things.
Then finally one day, Belinda’s mother took pity on the house and the treasures that were part of it and returned them all to the Belinda. She was overjoyed at being reunited with her lost treasures and memories. The old house from Ruth Drive was loved once again. Belinda, now a middle aged woman tried to restore life to the old house. Belinda was very sad about how pitiful and neglected the house looked. Many of the walls were now either missing or just broken. The house was beyond repair. Belinda cried as she hugged the house and apologized for treating it so carelessly. She lovingly placed it in a box marked for Charity.
Amazingly the house was relieved and accepted the apology and went bravely to meet its fate.
Valentine’s Day, 2001
The box traveled to a very special place. By strange chance, the house came home to 107 Ruth Drive. It was lovingly restored by a retired couple who specialized in dollhouses of this particular make and model. They completely rebuilt the dollhouse restoring the red brick façade and the trellis with the roses. The missing staircase was replaced with a much grander one. Framed windows with glass panes replaced the white plastic ones which were original to the dollhouse. The chimney now had a beautiful fireplace that was not painted on a wall. It actually worked. The couple filled the house with beautiful furniture and even wired it with lights that turned on and off. They cherished the house and made a lot of improvements to it.
That Christmas Eve, they placed it under the Christmas tree and early Christmas morning, their four year old granddaughter, Melanie, was the happiest little girl in the world. She woke up, ran down the hall from her room and saw only the dollhouse waiting for her to love. This dollhouse had come full circle and was the happiest dollhouse ever.
The House on the Table
Beth Ward
October 31, 2008
You have heard I’m sure of the absurd and often creepy things that can happen on Halloween Night. This night was definitely one of the creepiest. There at the end of a lonely display table in an Antique Shop stood a very old dollhouse. This house was not the average antique dollhouse. It had once been a full sized house.
Chantilly was a cheerful looking house that had been built just before the beginning of the War of 1812. Its white washed wooden siding, marble columns, slate roof, and green shutters overlooking a vast expanse of lush gardens with imported flowers from all over the globe and huge oak trees. There were children playing in the yard and workers working hard to keep everything looking perfect. The owners of the house spared no expense to this magical place. Visitors from near and far would stay for days, sometimes longer just to experience the luxury of the house. They didn’t know of its dark side.
As with most legendary homes, this one has its secrets, a mysterious story that is beyond infamous. After the house had been completed, the war was still raging. Soldiers from both sides wanted the house for personal and strategic reasons. Chantilly was located less than a mile from the river and the huge oak trees surrounding the outer limits of the property and the variety of plants made it very difficult to sneak up on by foot or on horseback. Many men died trying to take over the property. Fierce battles were fought by the armies on each side of the battle. The owners thought it all very entertaining. The owner’s eldest daughter, Sabine, was in love with Brent, a young officer from the English Army. They hid from the watchful eyes of her parents, his associates and everyone. Or so they thought.
The housekeeper in charge of the children knew what was going on. She tried to help the young lovers. But like most young people, they wouldn’t listen. The couple managed to escape her watchful gaze long enough to take a walk in the moonlight. Brent proposed marriage and Sabine accepted his proposal. They got swept up in the moment and forgot they had to keep it secret. It was Halloween night 1813.
Strolling back to the house hand in hand they went right up to the front door, where her father was waiting. He was furious when he found out they were to be wed. Cowering next to him was her mother, her siblings and her nanny. No one had ever seen the master of the manor so angry. He hurled insults at his daughter and her young officer. The battles previously fought on this land weren’t nearly as bloody or awful as the one that was about to happen. The Master was armed with a rifle and he shot his daughter and her young officer at point blank range right there in the door way. So distraught was his wife, she fled with her remaining children and their nanny up to the hidden third floor room where she and her servants had conducted séances. The Mistress of the Manor couldn’t bear to have her home destroyed or the memory of her child tarnished. There was enough of a scandal already. So she had her servants preserve the house so that it would remain in its glory forever. They did as she pleaded.
The house is in perfect repair. The gardens are just as lush. The oaks are as majestic. Only now the entire estate can fit on an 8 foot by 12 foot table. Everything was scaled down including the furnishings and fixtures. The people also were scaled down proportionally to scale. With one exception, they were no longer alive. They were the most life like looking doll house inhabitants ever.
How did this now miniaturized house become the main display in an Antique Shop? Nobody knows. But the name of the house and the name of the Antique shop are the same; Chantilly.
Chantilly, the antique dollhouse that sits on an 8 foot by 12 foot table in the window of Chantilly, the Antique shop is not for sale. It is a museum to itself and a reminder of a family history. It has been said that on Halloween Night since the tragic deaths of Sabine and Brent, you can hear the angry shouts of the Master of the Manor, the gunshots echoing off the walls and the screams of a heartbroken Mother and her children.
Sweet Sixteen
Rhonda had no clue what her parents were getting her for her Sixteenth birthday. She wasn’t the most sociable person in the world, unless you count her very long list of online friends. Rhonda was the kind of girl who would rather strap on a head lamp, safety goggles and conduct “surgery” on her “motherboard” than strap on a pair of high heels and a pretty dress. Even when she was a little girl, she was more drawn to the toys for boys. Erector sets, and building blocks were more her style. Rhonda’s room was filled with every kind of technological gadget she could get her hands on. Her favorite thing for the moment anyway was fiber optics and electronics in general. Her parents had promised her they would try to get her a HP Blackbird. The Blackbird is the Ultra high end, super expensive must have machine for tech junkies. Her Birthday was still a few days away.
Finally, the big day came, Rhonda’s sixteenth birthday. Her mother had bribed her to get all dressed up in the new outfit her fashion designer grandmother had sent for the occasion. They went down the stairs and there was her father, her bratty little brother, her grandmother, and her best friend; Frank.
They all sang “Happy Birthday” and she blew out the candles on her cake. The cake was decorated to look like an HP Blackbird. Her father chuckled, “We promised to get you an HP Blackbird, and you didn’t specify it couldn’t be cake.” Soon, it was time to open her gifts. Her bratty brother gave her a new thumb drive. Frank gave her a new video card. Her Grandmother, who had given her new clothes, also provided her with a very special key. Last but not least was the gift from her parents. It was covered by a plain brown cardboard box with a big red bow. The box itself was half the size of a server. Frank, her bratty little brother and her father helped her lift the box to reveal an old fashioned dollhouse. It was a perfectly scaled version of an old New Orleans’s town house. She looked at it then too her parents like they had instantly and permanently lost their minds. The dollhouse was creamy white with a wrought iron railing on each side of the stairs leading up to the tall skinny front door which was a deep dark brown. She did not know what to think and just as was about to open her mouth to say... something, her grandmother took the special key from her and put it in a lock hidden on the east side of the house. The house sat on a large turntable. When the lock was unlocked the house opened up to reveal the inside.
The interior of the dollhouse was sparsely furnished, but each detail was precisely suited to Rhonda’s personal style. The kitchen was equipped with every high tech large and small appliance that could be made in 1/12th scale. Miniature paintings lined the walls of the hall. 1/12th scale versions of an HD TV, every gaming console known to mankind and her favorite video games were set up. The dining room located across the hall from the living room had a scale model of her grandmother’s antique table and chairs. The table was set with elaborate dishes and flatware. A modest staircase was located just passed the dining room. Each room had tall ceilings and were fairly narrow rooms reflecting the architecture of the style of house they chose. At the top of the stairs was a landing. This floor of the house only had two rooms. The bathroom had a modern toilet, a sunken tub, and a cavernous shower with several shower heads. The room that adjoined the bathroom was the bedroom. It was a very large room. It had windows along one wall. A bed, bookshelves, a workstation outfitted with tools and unfinished gizmos were anchored to the wall across from the windows. There was a small door in the ceiling above the door. Out of curiosity, Rhonda opened that door. A ladder unfolded itself from the door as it opened. Her grandmother turned the key once more and the roof clicked up. Rhonda lifted the roof and peered inside. In the attic there were wires and cords wound around wooden spools. These were no ordinary wires and cords. They were specially designed and manufactured to make all the appliances and electronics actually work. With the equipment provided to her, Rhonda could make the lights work, the water run and the tools and other gadgets work. There was even a power source that was separate from the actual house she and her family lived in. Rhonda was stunned. She apologized to her parents for thinking they had sent their sanity on vacation and told them she loved the house. This was her dream house.
The dollhouse became Rhonda’s new pet project. Wiring it and tinkering inside it was now her favorite thing to do. She added more decorations and furnishings to it, changing the décor every few months. You really can’t judge a house or a person from the outside. It’s really what is on the inside that sparks a passion.
Help Wanted
This ad was found in the local paper:
Lazy homeowner seeks professional housekeeper. Applicant must possess the ability to remove dust bunnies. Please call (555) 645-5555 for more information.
The next day the phone rang off the hook and the appointments were booked. The homeowner however had no clue why maids and housekeepers were calling to get a job here. Surely this must be a joke or something.
It was no joke. This homeowner, named Jack was exactly what the ad said he was a lazy housekeeper. Jack had spent the last few years taking care of his mother, Mia. Mia had been suffering with one illness after another for the better part of the last decade. She was quite weak and needed constant care and attention. Her house was her pride and joy, as was Jack. Her other joy was the dollhouse her father had built for her when she was a little girl. Since Jack had been taking care of Mia, the housework had gone undone. Now that Mia was in a nursing home, Jack didn’t have the heart to notice that the beds were unmade, the dishes hadn’t been done, the floors were a mess and the dollhouse was buried under at least "a 1/12th inch of dust" on the furniture alone.
Thinking that one of his mother’s friends or visitors had taken it upon herself to run the ad, Jack took it in stride and conducted the interviews. He told each one of the applying helpers of his mother’s condition and how she had kept the houses previous to her illnesses. There was a good chance she would snap out of it, Jack wanted her house returned to its once spotless condition. He would do it himself, but he was never taught to even pick up after himself, much less clean.
A tour of the house and the dollhouse were always part of the interviews. The price for such a monster sized cleaning job went from the ridiculously cheap to the unbelievably expensive. The very last tour and interview was Candy. She answered all his questions without hesitation. She nodded during the tour until they got to Mia’s room where the dollhouse was. She was the only one of the many nameless applicants to even take notice of the dollhouse. Not only did Candy notice it she immediately began closely inspecting it. All she could do was shake her head as she touched each piece of furniture in the dollhouse and turned to look at Jack. She told him she would start immediately they would work out the details later. The dollhouse rejoiced silently as Candy set down her bag. Candy was known as the “Mary Poppins” of dollhouses.
Her bag was filled with everything needed to get the dusty old house and its furnishings spic and span. She was as good as her word, setting about her task of getting everything in order. Each room of the dollhouse no longer had say "a 1/12th inch of dust" on the furniture. Everything sparkled when she was done. Soon after, the big house dazzled as well. The dollhouse felt like it did when it was brand new. Candy spent days getting Jack and Mia’s houses back in order and when Mia was able to return home, Jack asked Candy to stay on. Candy was more than happy to stay on. She and Mia would spend hours fussing over the dollhouse. They became very close friends. The dollhouse was basking in its own glory and was very proud to have found someone to take care of them all.
Russian Blue or How to Get Cat Hair Out of a Dollhouse
Achoo…!
“God Bless you”, said the scaled miniature sofa to the scaled miniature drapes behind it. “Thank you.” Sniffled the drapes in reply, every piece of furniture in the dollhouse was sneezing. They had never had a cat around before and they didn’t like it one bit. The cat was a Russian Blue. He would gently nuzzle and rub against the furniture in his favorite spot; Sebastian was a very large cat who for some reason or another loved to sleep in the dollhouse. The dolls and the furniture weren’t very pleased with the situation but they didn’t know what to do about it. So they kept on sneezing and whining.
One day, the bookshelf had an idea! “We’ll scare it away,” The bookshelf told the others. “But how can we scare that cat?” asked the Persian rug under the coffee table. “We can make the cat believe this house is haunted,” suggested the lamp smugly and flicked on. The piano in the corner laughed out a tune… “That’s a wonderful idea.” They all agreed. The entire house thought of something to do to make the cat not want to sleep there and the plan was in motion.
That very afternoon, Sebastian casually walked up to the house that had cleaned itself up and was buzzing with energy ready to spring its trap. The cat did what he always did and rubbed each piece of décor in the house before settling down for his afternoon snooze. When Sebastian began purring in his sleep, the front door gave the signal, SLAM! …Nothing. The piano started playing Chopsticks. Again nothing happened. The rooms upstairs peered over the edge of the floors just waiting for their turn to fall on Sebastian’s head when the next signal was given. From the kitchen, the appliances all moved to the dining room ready to occupy chairs should the cat open his sleepy eyes. Meanwhile the coffee table, the rug, and the bookshelf managed to move Sebastian’s tail into the fireplace. The fireplace lit itself the cat screeched, and all the other rooms emptied on top of the cat. To any outsiders it looked as though the cat startled himself in his sleep and disrupted the house. Sebastian ran away from the house. The house cheered in victory and everything scrambled back to its place.
After giving himself a calming bath and got a snack from his food bowl, Sebastian returned to the dollhouse. He approached it with caution. When nothing else happened that seemed out of the ordinary he curled up and resumed his nap next to the dollhouse. Sebastian rolled over in his sleep and touched the dollhouse. Curling around it like a child with a favorite blanket and he purred. The sofa scooted to the edge of the wall so he could see what Sebastian was doing. The house itself cleared its throat. The wall nearest the sofa whispered, “Maybe that didn’t work.” The beds upstairs agreed, and they all felt ashamed of what they did.
A few minutes later Sebastian woke up and stretched. He eyed the dollhouse carefully. “Was bad dream” he decided and roamed through the dollhouse gently rubbing everything in it. Partly to assure himself that is was a dream and partly in forgiveness. When his back was turned for a split second the whole house sneezed. Sebastian just sat there watching the house, wondering what would happen next.
The bookshelf was curious so he it stepped out to get a closer look. Sebastian placed it back where it belonged. Slowly each room of the house was emptied and replaced in an unusual game with the cat.
Ever since that day, Sebastian never again slept in the dollhouse. He and the dollhouse were quite happy with the new arrangement.
The Dollhouse Chronicles
Tales from Dollhouses
Beth Ward
12/13/2008
The following is a series of short stories written about and for Dollhouses and Dollhouse Scale Miniatures, and the dolls that live in Dollhouses.
107 Ruth Drive
Christmas Eve, 1972
It was a cold night in Southwestern Louisiana and snow was beginning to cover the ground. It was a very rare occurrence in this part of the world, but a white Christmas is always a wonderful thing. The little girl lay sleeping in her bed, dreaming of dolls and dollhouses and the fabulous adventures that only a four year old girl could on Christmas Eve. Belinda had only gotten over her fear of Santa Clause that year was excited about getting up early on Christmas Morning to see what wonderful surprises awaited her under the Christmas tree.
Belinda climbed out of bed and ran to the living room, following her big sister, Lydia’s example. There it was, even more wonderful than she imagined, it was her very first dollhouse. The house was made of metal. The outside had a brick façade. Red bricks, a green roof, a big bay window and many smaller windows made of white plastic. It was a two story house with a chimney. It also had a balcony with a white railing and a trellis with roses. She turned it around and there were so many rooms, eight in all. The front door opened to the living room and the stairs. Each room was furnished with plastic furniture. And she had new Barbie dolls to play with in her new house and the Sunshine Family. This was one happy little girl and a very happy dollhouse.
As the years went by the dollhouse realized it wasn’t being lived in. It was loved, but not lived in. The house on Ruth Drive was no more than a back drop, a set in the movie production of a little girl’s dramatic imagination. A prop…
Time went by and the girl was growing up and Belinda just didn’t have time to visit the old house anymore. Not that she’d ever taken very good care it. She’d thrown it around and was really rough on it. The roof was dented, the furniture was broken and a lot of it was missing. The windows had been pulled out, the stairs and the trellis with the roses had been cast aside and lost. Rust was starting to take hold and ruining the paint job.
Belinda had outgrown the need for the house. But the house never forgot its early days. Because it loved Belinda and had watched her grow, it had always been there for her; it was heartbroken when Belinda’s mother packed it away to be hidden in the attic for what might be, the rest eternity.
From its location in the attic the dollhouse could hear all the conversations and life it wasn’t to be a part of. When the family moved, the box it was stashed away in was loaded in and out of trucks and again placed in the attic of unpacked, but memorable things.
Then finally one day, Belinda’s mother took pity on the house and the treasures that were part of it and returned them all to the Belinda. She was overjoyed at being reunited with her lost treasures and memories. The old house from Ruth Drive was loved once again. Belinda, now a middle aged woman tried to restore life to the old house. Belinda was very sad about how pitiful and neglected the house looked. Many of the walls were now either missing or just broken. The house was beyond repair. Belinda cried as she hugged the house and apologized for treating it so carelessly. She lovingly placed it in a box marked for Charity.
Amazingly the house was relieved and accepted the apology and went bravely to meet its fate.
Valentine’s Day, 2001
The box traveled to a very special place. By strange chance, the house came home to 107 Ruth Drive. It was lovingly restored by a retired couple who specialized in dollhouses of this particular make and model. They completely rebuilt the dollhouse restoring the red brick façade and the trellis with the roses. The missing staircase was replaced with a much grander one. Framed windows with glass panes replaced the white plastic ones which were original to the dollhouse. The chimney now had a beautiful fireplace that was not painted on a wall. It actually worked. The couple filled the house with beautiful furniture and even wired it with lights that turned on and off. They cherished the house and made a lot of improvements to it.
That Christmas Eve, they placed it under the Christmas tree and early Christmas morning, their four year old granddaughter, Melanie, was the happiest little girl in the world. She woke up, ran down the hall from her room and saw only the dollhouse waiting for her to love. This dollhouse had come full circle and was the happiest dollhouse ever.
The House on the Table
Beth Ward
October 31, 2008
You have heard I’m sure of the absurd and often creepy things that can happen on Halloween Night. This night was definitely one of the creepiest. There at the end of a lonely display table in an Antique Shop stood a very old dollhouse. This house was not the average antique dollhouse. It had once been a full sized house.
Chantilly was a cheerful looking house that had been built just before the beginning of the War of 1812. Its white washed wooden siding, marble columns, slate roof, and green shutters overlooking a vast expanse of lush gardens with imported flowers from all over the globe and huge oak trees. There were children playing in the yard and workers working hard to keep everything looking perfect. The owners of the house spared no expense to this magical place. Visitors from near and far would stay for days, sometimes longer just to experience the luxury of the house. They didn’t know of its dark side.
As with most legendary homes, this one has its secrets, a mysterious story that is beyond infamous. After the house had been completed, the war was still raging. Soldiers from both sides wanted the house for personal and strategic reasons. Chantilly was located less than a mile from the river and the huge oak trees surrounding the outer limits of the property and the variety of plants made it very difficult to sneak up on by foot or on horseback. Many men died trying to take over the property. Fierce battles were fought by the armies on each side of the battle. The owners thought it all very entertaining. The owner’s eldest daughter, Sabine, was in love with Brent, a young officer from the English Army. They hid from the watchful eyes of her parents, his associates and everyone. Or so they thought.
The housekeeper in charge of the children knew what was going on. She tried to help the young lovers. But like most young people, they wouldn’t listen. The couple managed to escape her watchful gaze long enough to take a walk in the moonlight. Brent proposed marriage and Sabine accepted his proposal. They got swept up in the moment and forgot they had to keep it secret. It was Halloween night 1813.
Strolling back to the house hand in hand they went right up to the front door, where her father was waiting. He was furious when he found out they were to be wed. Cowering next to him was her mother, her siblings and her nanny. No one had ever seen the master of the manor so angry. He hurled insults at his daughter and her young officer. The battles previously fought on this land weren’t nearly as bloody or awful as the one that was about to happen. The Master was armed with a rifle and he shot his daughter and her young officer at point blank range right there in the door way. So distraught was his wife, she fled with her remaining children and their nanny up to the hidden third floor room where she and her servants had conducted séances. The Mistress of the Manor couldn’t bear to have her home destroyed or the memory of her child tarnished. There was enough of a scandal already. So she had her servants preserve the house so that it would remain in its glory forever. They did as she pleaded.
The house is in perfect repair. The gardens are just as lush. The oaks are as majestic. Only now the entire estate can fit on an 8 foot by 12 foot table. Everything was scaled down including the furnishings and fixtures. The people also were scaled down proportionally to scale. With one exception, they were no longer alive. They were the most life like looking doll house inhabitants ever.
How did this now miniaturized house become the main display in an Antique Shop? Nobody knows. But the name of the house and the name of the Antique shop are the same; Chantilly.
Chantilly, the antique dollhouse that sits on an 8 foot by 12 foot table in the window of Chantilly, the Antique shop is not for sale. It is a museum to itself and a reminder of a family history. It has been said that on Halloween Night since the tragic deaths of Sabine and Brent, you can hear the angry shouts of the Master of the Manor, the gunshots echoing off the walls and the screams of a heartbroken Mother and her children.
Sweet Sixteen
Rhonda had no clue what her parents were getting her for her Sixteenth birthday. She wasn’t the most sociable person in the world, unless you count her very long list of online friends. Rhonda was the kind of girl who would rather strap on a head lamp, safety goggles and conduct “surgery” on her “motherboard” than strap on a pair of high heels and a pretty dress. Even when she was a little girl, she was more drawn to the toys for boys. Erector sets, and building blocks were more her style. Rhonda’s room was filled with every kind of technological gadget she could get her hands on. Her favorite thing for the moment anyway was fiber optics and electronics in general. Her parents had promised her they would try to get her a HP Blackbird. The Blackbird is the Ultra high end, super expensive must have machine for tech junkies. Her Birthday was still a few days away.
Finally, the big day came, Rhonda’s sixteenth birthday. Her mother had bribed her to get all dressed up in the new outfit her fashion designer grandmother had sent for the occasion. They went down the stairs and there was her father, her bratty little brother, her grandmother, and her best friend; Frank.
They all sang “Happy Birthday” and she blew out the candles on her cake. The cake was decorated to look like an HP Blackbird. Her father chuckled, “We promised to get you an HP Blackbird, and you didn’t specify it couldn’t be cake.” Soon, it was time to open her gifts. Her bratty brother gave her a new thumb drive. Frank gave her a new video card. Her Grandmother, who had given her new clothes, also provided her with a very special key. Last but not least was the gift from her parents. It was covered by a plain brown cardboard box with a big red bow. The box itself was half the size of a server. Frank, her bratty little brother and her father helped her lift the box to reveal an old fashioned dollhouse. It was a perfectly scaled version of an old New Orleans’s town house. She looked at it then too her parents like they had instantly and permanently lost their minds. The dollhouse was creamy white with a wrought iron railing on each side of the stairs leading up to the tall skinny front door which was a deep dark brown. She did not know what to think and just as was about to open her mouth to say... something, her grandmother took the special key from her and put it in a lock hidden on the east side of the house. The house sat on a large turntable. When the lock was unlocked the house opened up to reveal the inside.
The interior of the dollhouse was sparsely furnished, but each detail was precisely suited to Rhonda’s personal style. The kitchen was equipped with every high tech large and small appliance that could be made in 1/12th scale. Miniature paintings lined the walls of the hall. 1/12th scale versions of an HD TV, every gaming console known to mankind and her favorite video games were set up. The dining room located across the hall from the living room had a scale model of her grandmother’s antique table and chairs. The table was set with elaborate dishes and flatware. A modest staircase was located just passed the dining room. Each room had tall ceilings and were fairly narrow rooms reflecting the architecture of the style of house they chose. At the top of the stairs was a landing. This floor of the house only had two rooms. The bathroom had a modern toilet, a sunken tub, and a cavernous shower with several shower heads. The room that adjoined the bathroom was the bedroom. It was a very large room. It had windows along one wall. A bed, bookshelves, a workstation outfitted with tools and unfinished gizmos were anchored to the wall across from the windows. There was a small door in the ceiling above the door. Out of curiosity, Rhonda opened that door. A ladder unfolded itself from the door as it opened. Her grandmother turned the key once more and the roof clicked up. Rhonda lifted the roof and peered inside. In the attic there were wires and cords wound around wooden spools. These were no ordinary wires and cords. They were specially designed and manufactured to make all the appliances and electronics actually work. With the equipment provided to her, Rhonda could make the lights work, the water run and the tools and other gadgets work. There was even a power source that was separate from the actual house she and her family lived in. Rhonda was stunned. She apologized to her parents for thinking they had sent their sanity on vacation and told them she loved the house. This was her dream house.
The dollhouse became Rhonda’s new pet project. Wiring it and tinkering inside it was now her favorite thing to do. She added more decorations and furnishings to it, changing the décor every few months. You really can’t judge a house or a person from the outside. It’s really what is on the inside that sparks a passion.
Help Wanted
This ad was found in the local paper:
Lazy homeowner seeks professional housekeeper. Applicant must possess the ability to remove dust bunnies. Please call (555) 645-5555 for more information.
The next day the phone rang off the hook and the appointments were booked. The homeowner however had no clue why maids and housekeepers were calling to get a job here. Surely this must be a joke or something.
It was no joke. This homeowner, named Jack was exactly what the ad said he was a lazy housekeeper. Jack had spent the last few years taking care of his mother, Mia. Mia had been suffering with one illness after another for the better part of the last decade. She was quite weak and needed constant care and attention. Her house was her pride and joy, as was Jack. Her other joy was the dollhouse her father had built for her when she was a little girl. Since Jack had been taking care of Mia, the housework had gone undone. Now that Mia was in a nursing home, Jack didn’t have the heart to notice that the beds were unmade, the dishes hadn’t been done, the floors were a mess and the dollhouse was buried under at least "a 1/12th inch of dust" on the furniture alone.
Thinking that one of his mother’s friends or visitors had taken it upon herself to run the ad, Jack took it in stride and conducted the interviews. He told each one of the applying helpers of his mother’s condition and how she had kept the houses previous to her illnesses. There was a good chance she would snap out of it, Jack wanted her house returned to its once spotless condition. He would do it himself, but he was never taught to even pick up after himself, much less clean.
A tour of the house and the dollhouse were always part of the interviews. The price for such a monster sized cleaning job went from the ridiculously cheap to the unbelievably expensive. The very last tour and interview was Candy. She answered all his questions without hesitation. She nodded during the tour until they got to Mia’s room where the dollhouse was. She was the only one of the many nameless applicants to even take notice of the dollhouse. Not only did Candy notice it she immediately began closely inspecting it. All she could do was shake her head as she touched each piece of furniture in the dollhouse and turned to look at Jack. She told him she would start immediately they would work out the details later. The dollhouse rejoiced silently as Candy set down her bag. Candy was known as the “Mary Poppins” of dollhouses.
Her bag was filled with everything needed to get the dusty old house and its furnishings spic and span. She was as good as her word, setting about her task of getting everything in order. Each room of the dollhouse no longer had say "a 1/12th inch of dust" on the furniture. Everything sparkled when she was done. Soon after, the big house dazzled as well. The dollhouse felt like it did when it was brand new. Candy spent days getting Jack and Mia’s houses back in order and when Mia was able to return home, Jack asked Candy to stay on. Candy was more than happy to stay on. She and Mia would spend hours fussing over the dollhouse. They became very close friends. The dollhouse was basking in its own glory and was very proud to have found someone to take care of them all.
Russian Blue or How to Get Cat Hair Out of a Dollhouse
Achoo…!
“God Bless you”, said the scaled miniature sofa to the scaled miniature drapes behind it. “Thank you.” Sniffled the drapes in reply, every piece of furniture in the dollhouse was sneezing. They had never had a cat around before and they didn’t like it one bit. The cat was a Russian Blue. He would gently nuzzle and rub against the furniture in his favorite spot; Sebastian was a very large cat who for some reason or another loved to sleep in the dollhouse. The dolls and the furniture weren’t very pleased with the situation but they didn’t know what to do about it. So they kept on sneezing and whining.
One day, the bookshelf had an idea! “We’ll scare it away,” The bookshelf told the others. “But how can we scare that cat?” asked the Persian rug under the coffee table. “We can make the cat believe this house is haunted,” suggested the lamp smugly and flicked on. The piano in the corner laughed out a tune… “That’s a wonderful idea.” They all agreed. The entire house thought of something to do to make the cat not want to sleep there and the plan was in motion.
That very afternoon, Sebastian casually walked up to the house that had cleaned itself up and was buzzing with energy ready to spring its trap. The cat did what he always did and rubbed each piece of décor in the house before settling down for his afternoon snooze. When Sebastian began purring in his sleep, the front door gave the signal, SLAM! …Nothing. The piano started playing Chopsticks. Again nothing happened. The rooms upstairs peered over the edge of the floors just waiting for their turn to fall on Sebastian’s head when the next signal was given. From the kitchen, the appliances all moved to the dining room ready to occupy chairs should the cat open his sleepy eyes. Meanwhile the coffee table, the rug, and the bookshelf managed to move Sebastian’s tail into the fireplace. The fireplace lit itself the cat screeched, and all the other rooms emptied on top of the cat. To any outsiders it looked as though the cat startled himself in his sleep and disrupted the house. Sebastian ran away from the house. The house cheered in victory and everything scrambled back to its place.
After giving himself a calming bath and got a snack from his food bowl, Sebastian returned to the dollhouse. He approached it with caution. When nothing else happened that seemed out of the ordinary he curled up and resumed his nap next to the dollhouse. Sebastian rolled over in his sleep and touched the dollhouse. Curling around it like a child with a favorite blanket and he purred. The sofa scooted to the edge of the wall so he could see what Sebastian was doing. The house itself cleared its throat. The wall nearest the sofa whispered, “Maybe that didn’t work.” The beds upstairs agreed, and they all felt ashamed of what they did.
A few minutes later Sebastian woke up and stretched. He eyed the dollhouse carefully. “Was bad dream” he decided and roamed through the dollhouse gently rubbing everything in it. Partly to assure himself that is was a dream and partly in forgiveness. When his back was turned for a split second the whole house sneezed. Sebastian just sat there watching the house, wondering what would happen next.
The bookshelf was curious so he it stepped out to get a closer look. Sebastian placed it back where it belonged. Slowly each room of the house was emptied and replaced in an unusual game with the cat.
Ever since that day, Sebastian never again slept in the dollhouse. He and the dollhouse were quite happy with the new arrangement.
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