What a disaster.
Like its real-world counterpart, this remodel is killing me. I’m still stuck on pulling off the wallpaper. It’s amazing, really. Removing the wallpaper in this dollhouse compared to removing wallpaper in a human-size dwelling is roughly parallel to the mild exertion of a 5-minute walk to the beach down a grassy path compared to the misery of running the Boston Marathon on a cold, drizzly April day. And yet, I still can’t get it done. It evokes the exact same feelings of rage that yanking off the paper in my full-scale bedroom did oh, about 3 1/2 years ago. Which feels like yesterday.
And just like in a real house remodel, weird difficulties pop up. Like the tiny equivalent of a popcorn ceiling that I just realized I need to remove, and the discovery of a sort of electrical tape — I’m sure there’s an actual dollhouse term for this stuff — that runs throughout the whole house under all the wallpaper, designed to give a current to your tiny little dollhouse lamps and whatever else you fancy lighting up in there. But I’m pulling all the electrical strips off the walls, in honor of the new mandate to conserve. In the real world, we’re just a few garish Christmas displays short of running out of our favorite energy sources, or so I hear, so I’m not about to waste some of those last few drops, or drizzles or kilowatts, or whatever they’re called, of precious electricity on this vanity project that will never actually be occupied by anything, even an inanimate object in the shape of a creepy little human. Right now the house is a derelict, oversized garage for my kid’s cars, which suits both of us fine.
I’ll let you know if I get my mojo back, and in the meantime I’ll make sure the matchbox cars stay off the zebra skin rug. By the time I finish this project, that rug will probably feel new and fresh, having cycled through its current status as decorating cliché. At least that thought gives me something to look forward to – and a time frame for finishing of around two decades from now or so.