A Very Small House

[talon]

I have a trifecta of work that needs to be done to bring the house up to modern standards: wiring, roofing, siding.

Everything else is cosmetic, a matter of taste. I've been working on the cosmetic bits piecemeal, as I seem to do everything. It's always a work in progress. I have my special touches, a bit macabre, a bit whimsical.

When I fell through the ceiling, rather than repair it back to its original looks, I used one of my son's old jeans to cut off and stuff a leg, added a stuffed sock and glued a worn, out-grown sneaker to that and patched it into the ceiling so it looks as if someone is starting to fall through. That's whimsical.

Macabre is what I did when the baseball flew through the window and punched a hole in the wall up high. Instead of patching that hole, I tidied it up and put an abandoned bird's nest in it, then perched a bird skeleton on it hovering protectively over broken egg shells and shiny bits of bird treasure.

When the plumbers punched a hole in the wall near the baseboard in the bathroom, I tidied that hole up and placed a doll house door over it. When you open the door, you see a fairy sitting on a toilet reading a magazine to a spider sitting on her shoulder. The magazine is called "Modern Elf Homes". More whimsy.

I painted the wall behind the movie shelves a bright cobalt blue, and the shelves themselves a shell pink. Against the blue, the pink shelves look like shimmering soft gray instead of pink. Tucked among the movies I have assorted bits: a Cerberus as a "movie end", a trap door in a shelf that lets a bendable skeleton peer through, a pair of brass swans with no heads (I picked them up at a flea market that way - the owner gave them to me since she didn't think they'd sell), a Barbie doll head on a spike, a beaker of eyeballs (they're realistic eyeball-looking rubber balls), a test tube with mouse bones in it, a collection of fairy skeletons (made of roots, mouse bones, and dragonfly wings) posed here and there doing things (some of them rather naughty), and assorted flasks and jars filled with potions and parts. There's a little jar of snowman poop, too. There's a bell jar with a dried chicken foot clutching an egg with a lamia emerging from it. And I have mason jars with little pixies and fairies and one wee gnome in them. They have air holes punched in the lids and acorn caps for food and water.

I made a bunch of spine covers for my books so I can change the titles to suit the holiday. Even books need to dress up for Halloween (and other holidays). I know, I know. No one else has costumes for their books, but what can I say? I love my books and treat them like pets.

I drilled little holes in some of my shelves so I could make little Sculpey "critters" to peer out of them. Some are ghosts and others are shy woodland fantasy creatures, and others are scary eyes that glare from the depths. You only see those when you're in the right place and the light is just right.

There's traditional stuff, too - crewel pillows my aunt and grandmother embroidered, afghans my mother crocheted, tablecloths I embroidered, linens from my great-grandmother and grandmother, the antique treadle machine I learned to sew on, antique dishes (some of them dating back 400 years, others as recent as the Depression), my German coffee and cakes collection (cup, saucer, cake plate sets), and stuff like that.

The house is a work in progress (more work right now than progress) as I integrate family heirlooms into my weird collections. I haven't experimented with wall painting yet, because I haven't fully decided what treatment (or colors - the movie wall was an experiment on a wall I intend to tear down and won't stay) I want on them. I think that's going to depend on the flooring (I'm pulling carpet now) and shelving placements. I have so many books, I fear I may have no visible walls when I'm done, unless I put faux walls in front of the shelves.