Okey dokey, I have taken off my poufy frock and finished some more teeny weenies...
It isn't that I don't finish things...it's just that I get side-tracked by shiny squirrels and start other more interesting (at the time) projects.
So here we are again...
Autumn, punkins and toadstools time.
I am painting in oils again, Fae and other tinies, they are a wee bit shy so are not allowing me to show you yet but maybe soon...maybe
I also make miniature things throughout the year but I seem to forget to invite them to my blog so here is a little peek at some of them...
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| Playing at sweet shops :o) |
These are from a few years ago but you get why I enjoy playing :o)
When I was a little girl my friend Susan had the most fantastic dolls house, it had little jars of real sweets!!!! (They would seem massive to me now).
Her dad had fixed it so that a light bulb (a pea bulb) would turn on when you flicked a (giant) switch.
Gawd it was fantastic, I loved it so much, I loved the fact that we could stick our big heads in there and it was lit.
Magic!
Naturally, Susan was an only child and 'got' everything she wanted, yet she was not spoilt at all, she was lovely, I would dearly have loved to hate her because of this fabulous dolls house, but you just couldn't hate Susan, she was too okay.
I found it astonishing that every year she would choose some of her toys and give them to the Children's Hospital, see what I mean, way too okay.
My little sis and I held tight to everything we had, hey don't judge us against Susan, we were dirt poor and our things were meagre!
One year we both had a doll, me a Sindy and her a Tiny Tears ...the smell still wafts over me when I remember opening her box, plastic and newness and probably lots of chemicals but who cared it was Sindy!!!
And she was mine, all mine.
My sis and I didn't have clothes for them but we had the dolls.
Later my mum made us some dolly clothes from a library book after I copied out the patterns.
My Nan and my mum were good seamstresses, I think most folks were good at needle work then through necessity.
I had a Tressy doll too which an auntie had given me but my youngest sister took her behind the sofa (her favourite hiding place for doll-destruction) and bit her fingers until they had stretched into a long flat paw about an inch long, eugh!
She was a doll hater, she loved soft toys instead, cute and fluffy and to me, boring, they couldn't dress up and wear heels, you couldn't brush their long tresses, they were just cuddly.
One day my Nan dragged a dolls house all the way to our house, many miles walk.
She had bought it from a junk shop because she thought us three girls would like it and knew that she would get the money back from my 'dad' (I say this loosely).
We were overjoyed, it was even better than Susan's.
It had furniture and all sorts of really cool stuff with it.
It was humongous too!
We jumped with joy (I could cartwheel then but the house was too small to roll around in otherwise, me, cartwheeling for the love of this doll paradise!)
Dear old 'dad' came home from work, took one look at it and ranted about the couple of pounds she expected to get from him, and told her to cart it away with her.
My nan was heartbroken but she took it home in her big wheelbarrow cart thingy.
Later we would all play with it at her house.
She disliked my 'father' before, but this just iced her cake of hatred.
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| Trick or Treats? |
So, you see now why I make mini things, somewhere within me is this need to recreate the dolls house of my dreams, the one where everything is peachy and a big switch turns on a light bulb.
And Susan and me are sticking our big heads in to have a look at all those little jars of heaven.
Such delicious memories.
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| Calorie-free chocolates :o) |
I often think of Susan and what became of her...
and her dolls house :o)
