playing house

I have figured out why I don't mind moving.

Moving is like the grown-up lady version of playing house, and I loved playing house. I especially loved playing with my dollhouse. You could arrange things however you wanted, be in complete control and no one could mess up anything. You didn't even have to have the husband around. He could go to "work" and come home and then you could touch doll lips to doll lips. Good, clean fun!

I may have taken time away from the unpacking and organizing tonight to give some TLC to my beloved Littles house.

Come on in!



From what I can tell through my internet research, this isn't the wife, but the wife isn't blonde and it's my dollhouse and I can do what I want. Conveniently, the "husband" (token male) just so happened to be a red-head.



Hmmm! It's an avocado green, yellow and orange dollhouse. Can anyone guess what time period we are talking about here?



This may explain why I like the Sister Wives shows so much. I don't know how I thought all these dolls were related, but only two beds? One baby that they are all raising? Only one wardrobe for all their clothes? The modest clothing? Or perhaps the red-head is the "decorator" for the gals?



I may or may not have spent more than an hour cleaning the dollhouse, unpacking, arranging the furniture and taking pictures. In my defense, we don't have television in the new Parsonage. It's not like I have anything else to do. Just the cleaning, unpacking and arranging the furniture in the grown-up house.

In my adultness, I found it maddening to try to arrange such top heavy dolls. What was with the giant heads and toothpick legs? Perhaps this is why the Littles didn't catch on Mattel! Even Barbie in all her top-heaviness wasn't this bad!

After the hands-on part came the internet research that had to be performed where I learned that words like "Vintage" are used to describe my 1980 dollhouse which is selling for $99 on Ebay (worse shape than this one) or $199 for new-in-box.

The house is in pretty good shape, probably because that Mrs. Little was always such a task-master when I was calling her shots. She ran a tight ship.



The End for now, but don't worry. I still have Barbies to unpack.