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It was better than Barbie’s Dream House!

I mentioned here before that my daughter wanted to get rid of her doll house, and it held so many memories for me, that I had a hard time with her decision.

When I was six or seven years old, my parents would frequently pick me up from school and we would go to my uncle’s house.  Both my parents, along with my uncle and his then-girlfriend would work on this huge doll house that they were building.  They told me that they were making it for the girlfriend’s nieces for Christmas.  It was huge, and I loved it.  It was so big that it was in two parts, and was three stories.  It had ten rooms.  Not only did they build the entire doll house, they all made all the furniture.  I coveted that doll house.  I made small, simple items for the doll house.  I cut up a bunch of paper into small squares, and stapled them with a single staple, making a tiny notebook for the desk.  I broke a tooth pick and sanded the end down.  With a little marker, the notebook had a pencil to go with it.  I made little books for the nightstands.  I rolled up little pieces of brown paper for “logs” to sit by the fireplace.  I made a lot of small things to make the house personalized.
Admittedly, I was a little suspicious that I’d never heard of these nieces before, but maybe I was just being wistful.  Either way, I hoped that whomever got this doll house saw the beauty in it, and appreciated all the hard work that went into it.

Imagine my pure joy when, on Christmas, two huge boxes showed up at my house.  In those boxes were THE doll house!  It was for me!  My Mom and Dad, and Uncle and his girlfriend had fibbed so they could work on the dollhouse after work, when I was out of school.  That didn’t matter though, what did matter was that I knew how much time and hard work went into that doll house.  I knew that the house was built with love and laughter.  I adored that doll house.  I played with it for many years to come.  My friends and I wallpapered, and glued down “carpeting”.

It was a sad event when we moved and my doll house got put into a storage trailer on my Gram’s property.  There was a lot of snow, and it caused the roof of the building to collapse.  Many of the toys from my childhood, including my dollhouse, were lost.
It still makes me sad to know that my doll house is gone.  It’s something that I would have loved to have passed on to my own children.  I am happy to have all the memories from it.

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