My time-traveling Dollhouse

This was not my first doll house. I got my first one when I was 6. It was boxy and tall, with six rooms and in came with furniture that was a bit clunky and unappealing. Little by little it started to change thanks to the Saturday trips with my abuela to the Bazar del Sabado , the famous craft market in Mexico City. There were (still are) a few vendors that sold miniatures: mini foods, mini kitchenware, mini claypots. I would spend my allowance buying all this little things and abuela would also provide. ❤️
Later my mom bought a sewing pattern for making furniture! so she made me some sofas and armchairs, as well as crochet rugs and doilies. I got busy making mini foods out of Play Doh, I made a patchwork quilt with calico fabric and I carved CocaCola bottles from pencils. I even made a Bacardi rum, since my dad liked Coke and rum on Sundays!

Soon the boxy house was too cluttered with beautiful things. I was 10 when, on Christmas, I got a kit of pre-cut plywood to build a Victorian house. I couldn’t wait! I did not even read the instructions! I figured it out and build it myself during the Holidays.
But you know what happens with a bigger house…you need upgraded furniture, more knick-knacks and, many allowances later, electricity! I wired all the house and added little lamps that turned on. Oh! it was so beautiful at night! ….until my naughty little sister cut the cord and created a short-circuit. It never lit up again.
The house was never inhabited, I never played with dolls in it. It was all about making little things. Visiting the miniature rooms at the Chicago Art Institute was so inspiring!
But as I grew up, the house sat in the corner of my room, until I moved out and the house and all its goodies ended up in a crate.
Fast forward to 2017, I am now a mom and my little girl wants a blue doll house. Santa Claus whipped up his magic and on December 25, my doll house (renovated with blue paint) appeared under the tree. For the first time it is inhabited by a cohort of Calico Critters, it is still played with and the love for tiny things has been passed down. But I know some time in the next few years it will go back into the crate and it will have to wait for another kid to play with. 🏠

Dates written in the attic of the doll house: me (1978), my daughter (2017). We’ll see who comes next.