For the newbies - a little story I wrote a while back. Fred
It was the evening before Christmas; Adrian entered his tiny workshop carrying a cup of strong tea and a dish laden with biscuits covered with honey. He sat down to partake of his snack, munching quietly on each biscuit. The odd crumb would fall and lodge in his beard but he paid no attention to them. He looked around, envisioned what tools would have to be returned to their proper place, what pieces of wood would be saved for future projects and what would be used for fuel in the pot bellied stove.
It had been a good year for Adrian. For a long time he had put aside this project waiting for the right moment when he felt that his skills would be appropriate for the task. This year he had felt that the time was right. He had put his anxieties aside, took up pencil and paper and made plans. He knew in his heart that he would put all the skill he could gather into this project and when it was finished he had concluded that he would never attempt another one like it.
This was to be no ordinary project. It would be a very special Victorian style house. It would have a kitchen, a parlor, a drawing room, a fireplace, three bedrooms and a special sewing room. There would be glimmering chandeliers and fine table lamps. All the rooms would be furnished with the finest furniture that Adrian would also design and make. It would have fine curtains on the windows and hand stitched rugs on oak hardwood floors that would gleam with wax. The quality of everything would be the finest he could envision. It would be a house that would only exist in the world of make-believe for most people.
Adrian recalled the many pieces of paper with sketches of walls, floors, and rooflines that being short of perfection had been crumpled, thrown into the dustbin and the countless pieces of wood that had been discarded in favor of the more perfect pieces. The shop being drafty allowed a short gust of wind to blow an oak wood shaving across the floor like a fall leaf, he grinned at the shaving as he drank his last bit of tea and brushed a few biscuit crumbs from his beard. He felt better this evening than he had felt for years. The wood shaving could rest where it had stopped for little while longer.
Adrian set aside his empty cup, arose, walked over to his workbench and once again sat down; his bones creaked in the process. With out stretched fingers he gently grasped the house that he had finally finished a few hours before. He slowly turned it to the left, then to the right. He gently ran his fingers over the roof, down each wall and finally up and down the miniature stone fireplace chimney which nearly covered the outer west wall. He recalled searching for just the right colored stone pebbles to construct it and smiled.
Adrian turned the house around to view the front entrance. To his eye everything was perfect. He reached over and pushed the secret lever. Every dollhouse had to have a secret lever. Rachel had told him that many times. Upon releasing the secret lever the whole front wall opened up. There was the kitchen with the miniature stove, icebox, table and chairs. He could imagine the servants having their tea. His eyes passed over the parlor, the drawing room, the many pieces of furniture and finally the miniature grand piano. He recalled making three pianos before being pleased with his labor. This one of black ebony shone just like the ones in a concert hall.
The fingers of Adrian's right hand took a short walk up the winding oak staircase to the bedrooms on the second floor. Each bedroom wall was papered with a pattern of the time. Each room was different from the other and each had a stylish dresser, vanity, mirror and bed. He remembered gluing a tiny shaving mug to the top of one of the vanities and sewing the tiny bed quilts and pillows. He recalled petite point stitching the tiny rugs for the floors; it had all given him immense pleasure.
The last room to get Adrian's final inspection was the special sewing room. Rachel had said there must be lots of windows for light and a big orange cat by one of the windows. The windows had to have lots of muttons to catch and hold the make believe snow in the winter for these windows would capture the imaginary snow and frost and sculpture designs fit for a fairy queen. He made sure the cutting table was in the middle of the room under the tiny hanging lamp with it's stained glass shade and for reasons known only to himself he repositioned the miniature sewing machine just a little bit. Then he looked at the miniature cat that sat on the sewing stool and turned the stool and cat around so it would face the sewing machine. Rachel had told him many times to remember that every sewing room had to have a cat. This was a strange looking orange porcelain cat but it seamed to fit the scene perfectly. He pondered if maybe the stool and cat should be by the window but then decided that he liked it where it was. Adrian smiled, if the cat wanted to sit by the window it could go there itself.
In a gesture of love only Adrian could know he checked each tiny door to each room to make sure they would open and close properly on their tiny hinges. He had also installed a thin metal plate under the oak floors of each room and cemented very tiny magnets the size of pinheads under the legs of all the furniture pieces. He tilted the house to the left and then to the right to make sure all the furniture pieces would stay in their proper places, as planned none of the pieces moved as the house was tilted. He closed the front wall, secured the secret latch, opened, closed the front door one last time and as a final touch gently hung a tiny Christmas wreath he had fashioned on the door.
A peaceful calmness covered Adrian's face. The hour was getting late and there was one task yet to be done before the night was over. He put on his scarf, his heavy jacket, and as he gathering the fleece lined collar about his face the odor of aged leather gave him comfort only he could understand. Then on went the heavy wool mitts. He located a small old blanket he had been saving just for this night and placed it over the gleaming white Victorian house. Gathering up the house in its protective blanket he tucked it under his massive arm. He opened his shop door and a small gust of wind sent a ballet company of wood shavings dancing across the shop floor. He nodded his head as if to say thank you and walked out into the winter night. The clear black sky filled with its heavenly lanterns seemed to cast a spell that Adrian had never noticed before.
Copyright @ 2002 Frederick A. Kuhn