I saw this lovely house on Craigslist before Christmas. I was intrigued. I could tell from the pictures that it wasn't made from a kit and I was curious as to its history. I also wondered why the attic appeared to be enclosed what could be in that space.
A few weeks after Christmas I discovered the house was still being offered on Craigslist and for an unbelievable price of $50. I was still intrigued but still felt I didn't need another dollhouse. Although, I told myself, with that lovely floor and austere style it would be the perfect setting for my Bozart Kaleidoscope furniture and my homeless Reac pieces.
The house stayed in my mind until one sunny day in late January all the stars aligned. A friend was going out of town and offered me the use of his SUV while he was gone. I had enough cash in my wallet to buy the house and the seller answered my email right away and said I could come for it that evening, although, he warned me, it was very big and I needed a big car. Yes, I said, I can tell from the pictures that it is big, but I am used to large doll houses and I have an SUV, so I will be fine.
He had explained that he had two little daughters, but the dollhouse wasn't really suitable for them so he had decided to sell it.
After work I hopped in the car and headed north to the suburb where he lived.
I arrived and was greeted by the seller and his adorable three year old who was excited to show me the dollhouse before she ran off to change to her ballet outfit so I could see it too.
The dollhouse was as lovely as the pictures had shown, and he was right. It was huge. Larger than even I had suspected. Whoever had built it had made it solid and very heavy and had been unfamiliar with or completely uninfluenced by how dollhouses are usually constructed.
Not that I am complaining, mind you. The house is absolutely gorgeous and beautifully done.
I asked him why he was selling it and he said he had won it at a church raffle, but he and his wife, who was there with the second daughter in her arms, had decided the didn't want to keep it.
I was happy to have it and after she put the baby down, his wife helped him carry it to my borrowed car.
The three year old came down the stairs in her ballet outfit just in time to see them carrying her dollhouse out the door. Although I offered great admiration for her outfit she was not happy with the proceedings.
Her parents couldn't get the house into the car upright, so they had to put it in on its side. I thanked them profusely and happily drove home, naively planning how I could get it out of the car and into the house on my own.
I decided that I would get a dolly out of the garage, get the dollhouse out of the car onto the dolly and then wheel it into the house. The stairs might cause a problem, but I figured I could bump it up each one on the dolly.
I pulled into my driveway and went to get the dolly. I opened the back hatch of the car and eased the dollhouse toward me. I managed to slide it most of the way out of the car and stand it upright. It was at this point that I realized how heavy the house was, and that there was no way, short of dropping it on the driveway and doing untold damage, that I could get it onto the dolly.
I stood there holding one end of the house, the other still supported by the car, wondering what to do. I looked up and down the dark street and saw no one. My phone was in my purse and I couldn't get to it to call for help without letting go of the house. I couldn't push the house back into the car because, now that it was upright it would no longer fit and besides, I couldn't lift it up at the car end to get it back on the elevated part of the trunk in order to slide it in.
What to do? What to do? I wondered. I stood there, holding the end of the house and pondered my predicament.
I kept looking at the lighted windows of my neighbour's houses, trying to decide if I should start yelling for help. That seemed very undignified, so I decided it should be my last resort.
I was still pondering when a car pulled up and parked on the street. I was very happy to see my neighbour get out with his daughters. "Charlie," I called. "I've gotten myself into a bit of a situation. I can't get this doll house out of the car and I can't get it back in either. Could you help me?"
"How long have you been standing there?" Charlie laughed as he sent his daughter for her older brother.
My heros!! Charlie and his son carried the dollhouse into my living room with minimal combat through the narrow front door, and I, embarrassed but grateful, thanked them with all my heart.
I put the useless, unhelpful dolly back in the garage, gave a final wave to my lovely neighbours and came in to inspect my beautiful dollhouse.
I have shared it with you in these last three blogs. I hope you appreciate all the trouble that my neighbours and I went through for your enjoyment. LOL
Come visit again soon.
Hugs,
Susan