Finishing a childhood dream

Do you remember being a kid and there was always that one thing, whatever it was, that when you saw it you lit up inside and you knew that if you just had a chance to get your hands on it you would be complete? Forever? Playing with it once would make you the happiest kid alive. As it was, looking at it and dreaming about it was going to be enough for you, for now.

For Little Janae that imagination-bursting, awe-inspiring, magical dream was Grandma Peggy's dollhouse. It stood in Grandpa Bil's workshop.

Every summer I got to take sewing lessons from Grandma and Aunt Jan. They taught me patience, diligence, how not to sew through my own finger, and how to see projects as an artist sees them. Words cannot describe the gamut of emotions and experiences I had in those many, many hours. Even now when I look back on my sewing lessons they all seem to be returning to me with a sort of a vintage-yellowed tint, like our own sunshine was in the room with us. I don't know if there could be a happier way to spend a summer than working with my cousins and these two amazing women.

While I unpicked and hemmed and pleated and ironed my little brother (at the time he was still shorter than I, and I reveled in my ability to call him 'little') would descend the stairs to Grandpa's workshop. He was getting lessons on craftsmanship. I remember a little wooden car that he painted and assembled, the wheels actually turned and there was even a little steering wheel. I also remember trying my best to sneak a peak at Grandma's dollhouse which sat on a brown cabinet in the basement. Going to tell Mike and Grandpa that lunch was ready was always a good excuse. That dollhouse was magnificent. The red siding was so beautiful that I thought all siding on houses should be red. Each shingle was perfect. The windows even had plastic panels in them. And oh! Don't even get me started on the tower room! I wanted to LIVE in that dollhouse. Whenever I got the chance I would turn it, ever so carefully on its turntable, to try and glimpse the inside.

Every time I did, it was the same. On the ground level lay two staircases horizontally, collecting dust. The banisters had been started but there were no handrails. A few doors sat nearby, their decorative panels carefully glued to the exteriors. The next floor up held the walls, all of them bare.

It was so... romantic! An unfinished dollhouse, gathering dust. To me it may as well have been fairy dust. I loved it. I always hoped to see something change the next time I happened a glance but it never did.

***

Fast-forward a number of years. Add more height to me and more dust to the dollhouse. More mystique (to the house, not me). I got married. My husband and I set up a recurring date to visit my grandparents and aunt once a month which meant fun games, music for Grandma, and marvelous stories. I loved the stories so they never got old (and still don't). One night Grandma told one that was new to me. It was about her dollhouse.

As an eight-year-old girl she went to play with a friend one day. Despite the hardships of the time this friend had a dollhouse of her very own! With gaping eyes, Little Peggy decided then and there that she would one day have a dollhouse of her own. Years later her son Russ, knowing how much his mother dreamed of this dollhouse, purchased her a kit of her very own. Her husband, craftsman extraordinaire, set to work building this work of art for her.

"I even have furniture for it!" said Grandma, still excited by her retelling.

My heart thumped up into my throat. I never thought I would ask this question, but it had been rolling around in my mind for years.

"Grandma, why haven't you finished it?"

"Oh, we never did figure out the wiring."

"Wiring? For lights? So...like a circuit?"

"I guess."

My heart, despite all its pounding mere moments before, practically stopped.

"Grandma, I'm getting a degree in physics. If I can't wire that house for you, then I'm not worth my weight in anything. ...Would you... let me... try?"

I felt so small. Even asking felt... unholy somehow. As if Little Janae had just asked to have ice cream for dinner. As if Grandma and Grandpa would think that I was ridiculous and rude for putting my foot where it didn't belong. The dollhouse was so beautiful and Grandpa had already put so much work and love into it... who was I, the unexperienced granddaughter, to try and pick up where he left off? I knew absolutely nothing about building a dollhouse.

But the answer was yes.

So I learned.

I'm sad to say it took years for me to figure things out, make the time, and help finish Grandma's childhood dream for her. But it happened. I had a lot to learn. I was truly terrified that I would do something to ruin Grandpa's masterpiece so it was very slow-going.

Isn't it exquisite? All of that beautiful, hand-painted siding, and the individually attached shingles! I'm sure there will be a better picture of them later on. :)

But seriously...I couldn't take any chances! No mistakes. Grandpa put so much love into this house already.








I got started, and ended up doing a lot.
And just maybe I wrote this list to justify to myself how long it took me. :)

Dusting the dollhouse.
Gluing to the base.
Scraping the excess glue.
Gluing the walls.
Scraping the excess glue.
Researching how to wire.
Wiring the house.
Testing my wiring job.
Fixing connections.
Painting the ceiling.
Second coat on the ceiling.
Making "blueprints" of the wiring.
Painting the far walls.
Installing the first light...just to test it.
Finding period wallpaper. (Grandma wanted the house to be set in the 1890's when her mother lived.)
Learning how to wallpaper.
Wallpapering. (Super messy...super fun. On a small scale. I am SO glad my mother hasn't ever done a wallpaper remodel.)
Installing light fixtures.
Researching flooring.
Painting the base.
Finding flooring.
Measuring paper patterns for flooring.
Cutting the flooring.
Attempting to fit flooring.
Recutting the flooring.
Fitting the flooring.
Figuring out how in the blazes to get the flooring to look fantastic around the staircases.
Crying...a little bit...about the flooring. It wasn't perfect. Enough.
Temporarily carpeting the top floor because there wasn't any more flooring at Hobby Lobby.
Attaching handrails and banisters.
Shaving the bottom of each door to clear the new added height of the flooring.
Attaching the doors to the hinges.
Attempting to wield a hammer to nail the hinges to the door frames.
Sort of glue-nailing the hinges to the door frames.
Upholstering the miniature couch. (Whaat?)

Taking a deep breath.

Richard had to remind me over and over that it wasn't going to be perfect. It would have been perfect if Grandpa had been able to do it, but his back had made it so difficult to crouch (and heck, my back was telling me off after I had worked on it for a good hour). Instead he helped me to put the finish on the beautiful little grandfather clock, dresser, and side table that Grandma had kits for. He lovingly taught me how to keep things clean while doing a good job.

And secretly I was cheering that I finally got to have craftsmanship lessons with Grandpa!



When I went upstairs to tell Grandma that it was finished my hands were shaking, I was so excited.

Aunt Janice was so kind to rearrange the front room so that Grandma's house could be seen and admired. We spent an evening pulling out all of the exquisite furniture that people had gifted her over the years and playing setting it all up. That was another reason we were so excited to have it finished! So many people have given her pieces and parts to the dollhouse! We wanted it all seen, loved, and appreciated.

From start to finish my part in this project took me almost two and a half years.

Saying that I was honored to help complete this dual dream wouldn't even come close. It's been incredible in every way. I've only been dreaming about this house for, what? Twenty-ish years?
It's been Grandma's dream for eighty-one.

81 years!

I'm humbled. I'm happy.
(I'll never make another dollhouse in my entire life...this one was waaaay intense.)
I have loved every second that I have spent planning the particulars with Grandma, getting so much help and advice from Grandpa, and seeing it all come together.

This was one incredible childhood dream, spanning a few generations. I'm just lucky to have been a part of it.