Adventures in Dollhouse Decorating: Part 1

Oh My Gluestick dollhouse before2
I’m a believer in fate, karma, miracles, and luck. What’s meant to be is meant to be.  On a beautiful March morning in 2012, I was about to experience one of the biggest cosmic alignment of the stars I’ve encountered to date.

On the way home from dropping Princess off at school, I spotted it. On the curb was this huge wooden dollhouse just waiting to be smashed to bits by the trash truck.  I got out to inspect it and got back in my car. It was a hot mess so I panicked and drove off.

What came next was my inner monologue: “That’s a lot of work. Will it even fit in my car? I’m not sure I’m up for a project this big right now. Princess has her pink dollhouse. We really don’t need another one. What’s wrong with it? Why are they throwing it out? If it doesn’t work out, I can always donate it. I hope it’s still there!”

I made it three blocks before turning around and hurrying back before someone else with sense stopped to pick it up. What was I thinking? This was free and the least I could do was try.

There was a very specific challenge that could have been a real deal breaker. The lift gate to my Acadia had malfunctioned exactly the day before, making this specific pick somewhat of a pain. The gate would open, but was completely dead weight and would snap my head off if I accidentally let it go while putting away groceries.

I gave the piece a good look over and found after thorough inspection that it had all its walls, both sets of stairs, the roof, and great wood floors.  “I can do this,” I thought.  Just then, a car pulled in the driveway. Oh no! Will they freak out? Will they change their mind?  I asked if there was anything wrong with it when she informed me curtly that she didn’t live there.  Score! She clearly wasn’t interested in telling me to take a hike and could care less about what i was doing.  Jiggity jig.

I picked it up and Dear Lord was it heavy! It was definitely a two hand job and as much as I tried, I simply could not  hold the crazy heavy lift gate with one hand while shoving a giant dollhouse in the back with the other. It was impossible unless I was on steroids and could lift my own weight with just my pinky.

This thing wasn’t just solid, it was insanely bulky and fragile. The upper deck was wobbly and some of the walls were caving in. Anything I did to get it in the car would have to be done cautiously or I would compromise the entire structure.  The only way I could get it in was to scoot the second row all the way back, the front passenger seat all the way forward, and lots of determination.

It was a super tight fit once I was able to finagle it in. It took serious concentration, twenty minutes, and a ton of back and forth before wiggling it in to place just shy of the door. By the time I was done, I was covered in sweat and a wave of satisfaction swept over me. I was practically giddy.

A man was in his yard next door and could clearly see my struggles. I’m sure he enjoyed the spectacle. I felt eyes on my the whole time I worked, but I didn’t care. I knew I had scored big and was going to make it work one way or another.

Despite the difficulty, victory was mine. Now all I had to do was get it out of the car.

Stay tuned for Part 2 of our dollhouse makeover.


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