And on...and on...and on...and on...and o

I’m back! I’m sure you’re all excited. ;)

There have been several instances (understatement) in the last month when I wanted to jump on here and write a new post, but I was hoping to make some progress before I committed anything else to screen.

I haven’t yet...but I’m trying. 

To update you I have been checking amazon religiously, as well as ebay and other such sites. I have also been typing Garfield dollhouse into google and crossing my fingers.

The only turnout thus far comes from amazon. Sickeningly their Garfield is now priced around three hundred fifty pounds. Forty shipping. Heave. 

So about a week ago, in a last ditch attempt to find an English seller, I posed the question through my brothers google account in a public forum. Of course I’m not doubting this blogs ability to get the word out, however with a mere fifty eight views, let’s say, it hasn’t quite attained the coverage I’m looking for. 

I'm waiting patiently, but if nothing comes of it I might be forced to buy in America and reimburse a family friend for shipping fees. :(

On to lighter things!

You may have taken a guess at the meaning behind the http:// little dust clouds. Well I’ve decided to elaborate on that, to see if you’ve figured it out. (Nail biting stuff, this.)

Two things. Firstly, if you’ve skimmed my bio, you may have registered I am a dust magnet. I move a lot, both local and intercontinental travel involved (anyone here from California?) but no matter where in the world I go, poof, (pun) dust.  

And if you’ve ever dealt with dust, you’ll know it’s easier to remove spit from the ocean. Pardon the visual.

Second. I draw your attention towards dust number two. A different dust. Job site dust. 

My extended family is made up of builders. I was about to give my: little ones, big ones, fat ones, thin ones, but depending on who reads this, that could be offensive. 

 Instead I'll say Uncles, near Uncles, my Grandfather and possibly a few others, all of whom live in their own renovations or creations (I may be squatting in one of them). 

And possibly their least appealing quality is that they are, all of them, always covered in dust. Their is grime in their wrinkles, dirt in their clothes, grit between their toes, (that's a guess, I'm not checking). There is sand under their fingernails, chalk thickens their hair, cement dries to and dries out their skin. It’s horrible. (Ironic that this project puts me in a similar field to them). But I digress. 

My point is, when I think of a work site I think of giant ugly dust clouds; chalk that flies and makes you cough.

And as I am (almost) building my own property, miniature property—you might see where I’m leading now—I imagine it surrounded by… can you guess? Little dust clouds.

Cuter ones. Less hazardous. 

I had said I would discuss possible periods in this post as well as a possible name, but shockingly my words have gotten away from me, so I’ll save that for another time.

I hope this post is meaty enough to appease my TWO gallant followers (a nod to you, Sans. This is how armies are formed.)   

And just to whet your appetite for next time, here is a clue towards the impending theme:

I will NOT be ending this post with a jesting last line like its predecessors. And I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, because I am not myself you see.

Anything? Anything? My God they’re on the edge of their seats. Damn! That was jesting ;)

The Search Continues...

Have you ever watched a TV show or movie in which the main character is trying to avoid a certain thought, or perhaps it is simply on his mind. Let’s use…bears, as an example. 

He flips on the television and, go figure, he left it on animal planet, which is now tracking the hibernation of a grizzly. He changes the channel and would you believe it’s the new Yogi bear trailer. One more time before turning it off and bless, it’s Winnie the Pooh. And you think (at least I do): oh very good, how realistic. 

But I get it now. 

In reality it isn’t quite that obvious. But I've found in the last week that when you have something on the brain it does seem to pop up a lot more than usual, simply, I've decided, because your subconscious is on the lookout for it.

That is my long winded way of saying I’ve seen a lot of dollhouses this week. 

The ad with the puppy, which I’ve decided is selling house insurance, seems to be on every channel. There’s a new commercial out which is literally pushing a dollhouse catalogue. 

It’s in the magazine I read at the dentist; Amazon is trying to sell me the Dollhouse box-set. It was even on Trueblood. Sookie destroyed it with a shot gun, which humorously was very distressing to me.

Add that to the number of blogs I’ve read on the topic and it's equivalent to...I don't know. Something large. The number of zero's involved in how much this project is going to cost me. Hopefully I'm exaggerating.  

I still haven’t found a Garfield in my price range, and part of me wondered if I shouldn't have started this blog after the purchase, but I quickly sent that part packing. I decided she was a blonder version of me; one who is probably in Bermuda by now. 

Dollhouses are expensive. They’re not gold mines (though it could be argued that they're priceless on the sentimental market) but they do cost a nice chunk of change, and I feel it is important to catalogue the forethought as much as the actual building process.

So if they don't hit me up with restraining orders for harassment (totally kidding) I will be bugging/begging any Garfield veteran I can find for advice. Even advice on where to get advice would be invaluable. 

But until responses come through that is all behind the scenes stuff. So next time I’ll be focusing on more ambiguous quandaries, like themes and origins that can act an inspirations, as well as styles and possible period settings that come into play. 

And most importantly, pressingly, a name that doesn’t remind me of orange fur, and lasagna.  

Meet The Garfield

I was racking my brain earlier, (brains? Brain.) trying to decide exactly where to start. Not only am I new to dollhouses; I'm new to blogging, which puts me in unfamiliar territory. So like a good investigator, a title I give myself, I perused a few other blogs, related and non, and incredibly they all lead off from something of a similar place. The beginning. I was shocked too.

And while I can't show you the sparking advert of the little lab knocking the roof off a dollhouse then sticking his head out the top (I couldn't find it on youtube), I can show you the first picture that caught my eye when my invasion of the internet took form. The picture I inevitably doubled back to when nothing else was quite as enticing...or big.
So to begin, officially, this is that picture. (Or one of several copies of it.)
This is the Garfield.

 

...And this is the Garfield's butt.

 

What a butt.

But don't let this feisty dialogue fool you. Part two is the real kicker. That would be the actual purchase. Somewhat important.

Problem is I've been scouring the web for weeks now in hunt of a good deal and I might possibly be at a stand still. Insert cliched quote to Huston. Money is tight these days for everyone, but you'd be surprised by the number of places that are selling it cheap, even shipping it cheap. What they're not doing is shipping it internationally for anything less than all the treasure from the Pirates trilogy, plus a million dollars. And a first born son (or daughter. They don't discriminate). 

There was a brilliant deal on amazon.co.uk for a while which didn't involve human trafficking ;) but it climbed in price from around one-fifty to something like three hundred pounds before I had the chance to swiper the sucker. Anyone here watch Dora? Side note, for the serious adults: That was before shipping (and possibly tax. I couldn't say).

So I continue the search for a seller in England. Again, at relatively low cost. Until such a deal can be struck, and since I currently have all of one gallant followers, I resort to stalking other dollhouse bloggers, on the lookout for potential contacts and pertinent information. 

But before I sign off on what will be the first of many long, sometimes rambley posts, as I'm sure that that one follower will be desperately lost in my absence, I suggest another hobby to fill the void. A second language perhaps? Maybe Russian.

Picture me smiling, and do svidaniya.