Christmas Memories – the Dollhouse

When I was a little girl I received the best gift ever – a wooden dollhouse, taller than I was.  Standing on four legs, the house had 7 rooms and an attic, 4 glass windows, and stairs that went up to the second floor.  Best of all – it had electric lights!  This house had been my mother’s and my grandmother’s before her.  They had played with it outside in the backyard.  During the winter, it was stored in the basement.

My mom still had a few items from the house; a china doll, a wooden footstool, a metal highchair and some tiny brass lamps.  And the house was still in my grandmother’s dark and creepy basement, just waiting to be rescued.  Grandma lived in Oak Park and we lived in Minneapolis.  How could we ever get it home?  A colleague of my dad’s tied it to the top of his car and drove it to our house.  He was my hero!

We cleaned and painted the house and wallpapered the rooms.  Dad made tiny versions of the furniture in our house.  My friends and I played for hours with the dollhouse family.  Every year I decorated the house for Christmas.  From the bushes outside our house I snipped evergreen sprigs for the mantel and hung little stockings.  Most magical of all was the Christmas tree.  My dad had electrified a six-inch tall artificial tree with tiny red and green lights from a train set.  I even had a Santa with his sleigh and reindeer to put on the roof.  With the lights down low and presents under the tree, you’d expect that Santa was about to come down the chimney.

Wendy's house

The house is still a part of our family.  It is now more than 100 years old.  To learn more about my house, click on its picture or on the URL below.  You can read about it and other dollhouses.  On January 28, 2012 the library will celebrate Hobby Day.  My husband and I will be on hand to talk about dollhouse miniatures.  Come see us! We’ll bring some of the furnishings from “this old house.”

-Miss Wendy

http://studiobminiatures.com/dollhouse.html   is the link to the page about the house.

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