Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Day 2: Casserole and Nostalgia

I wish I could say something here like "No time to blog, working on the peanut pillow!" but alas, the peanut pillow is across the room glaring at me, bourbon in hand, for all of the broken promises (did you just hear it say "we never spend time together anymore" with a bourbon-stained slur!?) I'll get to it...just after I finish these lesson plans.

I was thinking outside of my work addiction today when I saw this dollhouse post on zakka life during my lunch. (Note: This is the mother I had always intended on being one day and coincidentally, the very dollhouse I had always wanted to build.) It reminded me of the conversation that I'd had with a few of my friends at the SFA show on Friday who were going with the band to D.C. and stopping for a quick trip to the Smithsonian where they'd planned on visiting Kermit and Julia Child's kitchen. I insisted that they had to stop at my life's greatest inspiration---the Smithsonian dollhouse. I spent what felt like 3 hours in front of this dollhouse when I was a kid, absorbing eah inch of perfectly calculated scale.

I built my first dollhouse with my mom when I was 12, the year after my dad died. Looking back, we did a lot of things like that in 1994 and I realize now that my mom sortof always did what I do. The delicate art of escapism. Still, the dollhouse became a huge part of my childhood and I have to say, I played with that thing way longer than I care to admit. I took dollhouse furniture-making classes, sewed my own miniature curtains, hooked my own tiny bath mat and set elaborate tables with miniscule forks, tea cups and gravy boats. And Christmas...oh, Christmas...it involved hours of planning, crafting and decorating before I'd invite my family to a miniature tour of my miniature world. The perfect one with a really tall dad and three kids with rudimentary haircuts, not unlike my current dollhouse, slightly bigger, one lady, two dogs and one Dan with a rudimentary haircut.

We're high fiving the snow fall and hoping for a day off where we'll do anything but work. Well, maybe a little work (you don't expect me to do this cold turkey!). How romantic.


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