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Sunday, September 16, 2012

How Did I Get Here?

Today's musical inspiration:

While waiting for my Miniature House kit to arrive, I decided to delve into the past, to see if I could figure out why this dollhouse fever hit me like a ton of bricks.  Could there have been some long-buried dollhouse incident in my past?  Did I yearn for one and never receive it?  Did I have a cherished dollhouse that was run over by a bus while I watched? I called my mother.

"Hi Mom!"

"So, you remembered how to use the phone?" she asked.

"I believe your phone has a dial on it." I replied.

These formalities behind us, we got down to the subject at hand.  In response to my question, I expected her standard response, "Are you kidding? I don't remember what I had for lunch."  But in fact, she recalled that yes, maybe I had a dollhouse.  She thinks.  She couldn't provide any details and quickly lost interest in the subject. I decided to investigate further.

I contacted my brother, who is seven years younger than I am.  To my email entitled,  "A Question of Great Social and Historical Import," he replied that no, he did not remember me having a dollhouse, but    we were both really into the Weebles Treehouse.

Weebles wobble but they don't fall down
Boy did THAT bring back memories!  I haven't thought of weebles in decades. I forgot they existed, never mind lived in a tree.  But thanks to the awesomeness that is YouTube, I could experience them like it was yesterday, and I invite you to view:  A 1970's Weebles Treehouse Commercial.

My brother also noted for the record that he still recalls how disappointed he was that he never got the Weebles Haunted House with the groovy glow-in-the-dark ghost weeble.  Note to self:  search eBay for possible funny Christmas present.

I enjoyed this blast from the past, and I guess the Weebles treehouse technically qualifies as a dollhouse, but I'm not sure it has any bearing on my current obsession. I had one other theory to explore. When I was a kid, I believed that my cousins, Ronnie and Terry, were the epitome of everything that was awesome. I still kind of do. They responded to my puppy-like worship by treating me with disdain, which of course only made me adore them even more.  So maybe they had a dollhouse, and wouldn't let me play with it, leaving me with a lifelong yearning that I am only now seeking to fulfill?

I called my cousin Terry.  She is no stranger to obsessive hobbies. Every time I see her, she is festooned with new, beautiful beaded jewelry creations - earrings, necklaces, bracelets, ankle bracelets, eyeglass holders, etc.  Here are some lovely earrings that Terry made for  me:

Now that I think of it, her sister Ronnie - she lives in Pennsylvania and I don't see her as often - also has one of these hobbies.  As Terry's husband Ken puts it, if you go to Ronnie's house and stand still for too long, she will paint you. Here are two beautiful painted pieces that Ronnie sent to me:

To sum up, my cousins, as grown ups, are both very nice to me and also very talented.  And now back to my point, which is that I called Terry and not only is she positive that she and Ronnie never had a dollhouse, but she is pretty sure that I never had one, either.  Oh well, so much for that theory! Since I can't find anything in my history to explain my Miniature House mania, I will just have to accept it.  Or I can just blame Sally.

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