I SPLURGED!

I really did.  My credit card will never forgive me.  Heh.

We've been having a bit of a beastly time in our neck of the woods and, I suppose, I like retail therapy as much as the next girl.  My wonderful, entirely too supportive husband encouraged me to go ahead and buy the one thing I really wanted (that can be purchased): real marble tile for the Haunted Beacon Hill.  And, well, that led to him pointing out that, really, I shouldn't compromise my vision for the house by using less-than-desired cladding materials.  You can see where this is going.  Pretty soon, I'd bought out the entire store!

I can't say that it made this morning's funeral any less wretched, but it has given me warm and fuzzy fantasies about how I'll distract myself in the upcoming weeks.  

The tile, while ludicrously expensive, is really lovely.  It's pink!  Richard Stacey's entire line, I've recently discovered, is available for sale on eBay.  I don't normally care for eBay, but for some things I'll make the sacrifice.  This is particularly good, because it's not static; you can see, in real time, what sorts of colors of marble they're offering.  I also (hey, why ruin a good thing?) bought some deeply veined gray marble for the conservatory.  I'd originally been planning on going in a completely different direction, but this project has--appropriately for a haunted house, I suppose--taken on a life of its own.

In other news, I'm coming along with the carvings, and should have something to show for myself in that department soon.  I'm really excited to write about it, and show you what I've done.  What's holding me back right now, more than anything, is the mail--waiting for things to arrive!  The time I have (I took a couple of mental health days), the materials...

Also, too, I've been pondering the interior window trim and have realized, in doing that, that having any sort of sense of what I want necessitates having an indoor design plan.  The only room about which I have absolutely no ideas--or no good ideas, I should modify--is the dining room.  Normally I'm mad for dining rooms; I don't know what it is, this time.

On a final note, my son behaved really, really well today.  Jim and I were commenting that if only he were old enough, we'd take him out for an ice cream and presents.  He put up with quite a bit--strange, looming people not the least of which--and handled himself wonderfully.  Now, of course, everyone thinks we have the perfect baby!  Which, of course, we do.

Back at home, with Teddy.

I'm still sort of struggling along with the catacombs...

I hope everyone else's week has ended on a high note.

Haunted Beacon Hill Porch--Gothic Makeover

The original Beacon Hill, while lovely, doesn't necessarily lend itself to a Gothic theme.  To that end, I've been giving it a little facelift.  It's really still in the beginning stages, so you'll have to use your imagination a bit, but I figured I'd share what I've done so far. 

This is how it started:

The original Beacon Hill, photo courtesy of Greenleaf.

First, of course, I enlarged the dining room and built out the basement.  My next challenge is to update the facade of the house itself and, so far, I've started on the porch and one of the windows.  When complete, it'll be a combination of red brick and sandstone.  The windows are going to be a combination of stained glass and plain, diamond paned glass.  The square windows are, I think, going to be (opening) casements.

The house so far.

At the halfway point...

I lengthened the porch and added a front cupola.  The design is inspired by various stone colonnades I've seen in real life.  This is a great excuse, since I've always wanted to build one.  Eventually, there'll be a slight pitch on the porch roof, which will be copper.  I'm also waiting on the gable trim, and still making the crenelations.

Coasters make great weights!

The columns are an amalgam of found items.  The bases are wood spools from Michael's; the columns themselves are 1/4" dowels, and the caps are--again--wood spools that I cut in half.  So far, I'm pretty pleased with the results--and the price!  I think they'll look fairly convincing once they've been made into "stone."  And with all these arches, my Dremel is getting a good workout!  I come up from the basement literally coated in sawdust; hours later, it's still sifting down out of my hair.

Then, while I waited for a few things to dry, I started on the front bay window.  No, not everything on this house is going to be pointy, but I thought it suited the shape!  It's still a little plain looking, because I'm leaving room for decorative carvings.

Eventually the crenelations will carry around the front of the porch and cupola, as well.

So that's where I am right now.  It's starting to look a little bit different, which is gratifying.  Tomorrow I'm going to start on the rest of the windows and, once I'm finished with the basic wood shapes, I'll start on the carvings, ahem, Sculpey.  At first I was worried that sandstone would look too cheerful, but then I figured, hey, it works on Disney's Haunted Mansion, right?

Thoughts?

The Hobby Lobby Petition

One of the great things about miniatures, as a hobby, is that it's an escape from the real world--and a chance to create your own, better world.  Nobody wants a political rant.  And, while I'm certainly not trying to keep my own views a secret, I also don't think it's appropriate to preach at people.  We're all different, we all have different beliefs, and diversity is a wonderful thing.  The last thing I would ever want is for someone to feel like they can't be my friend, because we disagree.

But, for informational purposes only, sometimes it's good to share.  And some of you might not know about this petition.  I, personally, like to know what stores, distributors, and manufacturers support so that I can make my purchases accordingly.

Thoughts?

The Tools I Use

I thought about going around and taking pictures of all of them, but then wondered, does anyone even want to see them?  Plus, too, my newest toy isn't yet out of its box.  Jim and Jackson went to Home Depot with me yesterday before work, and we got some MDF panels, too.  They're pretty good sports.

Jackson in his jumperoo; he turned 5 months two

London feels left out.

Yesterday, I purchased a Rigid 10" 15 amp table saw with a portable stand.  Due to my oft-discussed space issues, I'll be using it outside.  

I also have a MicroLux Tilt Arbor Table Saw, which is what I do most of my fine cuts on.  I bought this to replace the PREAC.  I had two PREAC saws for years, and was not happy with them.  My biggest issues were vibration and lack of variability.  I found it very difficult to achieve precise cuts, because the PREAC just wasn't calibrated right.  My MicroLux, however, is accurate to within 0.03 mm, which makes a huge difference to the final product.  Also, because it tilts, fits larger blades, has a variable speed motor, etc, it's much more versatile.

The only thing I miss about the PREAC is Pete Boorum's jigs, but jig making isn't that hard and you can always make your own.  Micro-Mark sells some pretty good accessories, including a nice feather board.  I also have their anti-vibration pad, which works great and is worth the comparatively small investment.  My workbenches are kind of old and warped--they came with the house, which was built in '38--and the anti-vibration pad even works in that less than ideal situation.

After experimenting with several different Dremel products over the years--I've owned an embarrassing number of tools that didn't quite work out--I settled on the Dremel 4000.  Not all Dremels are created equal, and the less expensive, less powerful ones aren't always up to the tasks I have in mind for them.  I love dremelling, and most of my projects, large and small, feature some.  I used my Dremel to create the arches in the greenhouse; I cut two arch pieces, placed them back to back, and used my Dremel to create the actual arch shape.  It's a lot easier to create a composite Gothic arch out of two pieces of wood, than try to get that perfect little point.

I have both a MicroLux electric mitre saw and a regular old box-style mitre saw.  I use the cheap one more.  Spending a lot of money on a mitre saw is, I've discovered, like spending a lot of money on a bottle of champagne or a serrated blade knife: past a point, not worth it.  Korbel tastes better than Veuve Cliquot, and our OXO serrated knives work great.  Our Shun knives, however, are worth every penny.

I love 3M sanding sponges.  The best sanding supplies are made for the automotive industry.

I don't have an airbrush, but I'm seriously considering getting one.

I like X-ACTO #11 blades, #2 pencils, and metal rulers.

I stopped using T-squares awhile ago.  Even the really expensive ones are often slightly off-angle.  But speed squares still rule--and, for some reason, are generally cheaper and better made.  Huh?

I only use Olfa self-healing cutting mats.

To be honest, my favorite brushes are the synthetic bristle ones available at Michael's.  It's all about the quality of the bristles and the actual construction of the brush, not the brand name.  A set of several costs about five bucks and, on the whole, they're better brushes than some brushes I've paid twenty times that for.  

Q-tips rule, and that is all.

Everything I make, I make with these tools. 

I Have A New Table Saw!

Hooray!

I just had to share.  I have small table saws, suitable for most miniatures applications, but nothing large enough to, say, cut huge, unwieldy sheets of MDF with.  It's gotten really frustrating, being dependent on other people for services I can perform for myself--like cutting certain sizes of plywood, etc.  I'm a competent woodworker and, besides, this stuff is not rocket science.  Since I'm now at the point where I really need to start building the Haunted Beacon Hill's basement, now's the time.

What finally pushed me over the edge was a semi-unpleasant conversation with a supplier of custom cut MDF panels.  Who basically told me he was too busy to walk to the post office, but if I wanted to arrange a courier to come to his shop, that would be OK--and he'd bill me for his trouble.  So, um, yeah.

Will my new toy pay for itself any time soon?  

Probably only with sanity points!

In Search of Corrugated Roofing

If things go as we hope--and that's kind of a big "if" right now--then we'll be in the right location, but in a relatively small space.  Which certainly isn't the end of the world, not in any circumstances and certainly not in ours, because we're talking temporary lodging.  It's difficult, moving.  But, while we (hopefully) build our house, we've found a place that'd be perfect to rent.  We're waiting to hear back on that as I write.

I don't think we'll be putting our old house on the market until we've at least got a pretty good bead on what's happening with the new one and, preferably, not until we're actually ready to move.  Our old house is, um, nowhere near our current location and, for a variety of reasons, we want and need to stay where we are.

So I was thinking, OK, assuming things go our way, I'll have some space--there's a lovely upstairs bedroom that'd make a perfect craft room--but not enough for everything I'd like to work on.  Certainly it'd be a tight fit for two full-sized dollhouses (although I may try anyway).  I was thinking I'd bring up either the not-Lincoln or the Haunted House, and something else small.  For awhile now, I've wanted to make a Maine-style shack in miniature.  It seems like it'd be a really fun project--or, at least, certainly a personality-filled one!

I've been driving around, taking pictures for inspiration.

Now, obviously, not all of Maine looks like this.  Some of it looks much worse!  Heh.  Don't worry, our generally, um, creative approach to architecture is a subject of nearly endless humor among Mainers.  And, of course, many of the houses--here and all across the state--are simply beautiful.  Naturally, there aren't too many of each as we're thankfully still pretty rural.  I also took some (in my humble opinion, naturally) wonderful pictures of farms, fields, etc etc etc but those aren't so interesting.  Unless, of course, you happen to dig pictures of sheep.

I have a little Greenleaf kit I'll be bashing--and if anyone's interested, I'll post more of my inspiration pictures when I'm a little further along--and a general idea of how I'll finish it.  But what I don't have is corrugated roofing.  I bought some from Oakridge Hobbies, a delightful establishment I patronize frequently.  This stuff purported to be 1:12 scale.  I was excited for it to arrive and then...it was HUGE!  HUGE!  Literally, it would've looked normal on a full-sized house.  There are, of course, hundreds of other sizes of corrugated roofing--for our model train-making friends--but the descriptions of size, etc are, at least to me, almost nonsensical.  

So what now?  It's not exactly economically feasible to buy one sheet of each size, hoping for the best.  Although, at this rate, I may have to...

A Color Scheme is Born

As promised, there are pictures!  However, due to the fact that the plumbers installing our sprinkler system (hooray!) completely took over the basement, they're not as complete as I'd like and I couldn't reach my better lights to turn them on.  So please excuse the shadows!  In any event, a few more goodies had arrived at the house, and I thought I'd start there.  I'm not really sure, yet, what I'll end up using in each house; the Sue Cook mantelpiece was intended for the house I'm working on now, but I'm not sure I'll end up using it.  I have a kit for a Georgian house waiting in the wings, so it may end up there, instead.  I ordered the grates, because I'm intending to build my own surrounds (probably for a bedroom fireplace).  And, lastly, the plaster rosettes are for the dining room.

Goodies!

In person, this is an especially lovely piece.

 

These rosettes are for the dining room (for the corners of doors, etc.)

My idea is to, hopefully, build something fairly modest around it.

The lighting's really poor, here (I couldn't reach my work lights to turn them on), but these are a few shots of the in-progress shell.  I'm trying to figure out what I'm doing with lighting, etc. before I put everything together completely.  As I find things I want to use, I've been sticking them into the house, so I can see everything at once and get a sense of how it all works (or doesn't work) together.

The main body of the house, which contains the formal rooms.

This is the rear extension.  In this picture, I'm looking down from above on the (unpartitioned) second floor.  Because it contains the more, shall we say, unexciting rooms, it'll be comparatively much more plain.  One contrast that's always interested me, in Victorian homes, is that between public and private.  I've seen these elaborate parlors, dining rooms, etc, then made my way into the kitchen and been shocked by how barren it was.  I'm still trying to decide what to do with my kitchen, here.

An upstairs in progress.

The dining room.

The library.

Yes, I like to write on things with Sharpies.  The dining room will be comparatively monochromatic (I don't like using wallpaper in every room; some solid color walls help calm things down, and set off the wallpaper to its best advantage), but will have quite a bit of ornament.  I plan on using lincrusta ("lincrusta") wainscoting both here and in the hall.  My lincrusta-making supplies arrived the other day, and I'm quite pleased with them--more on that later!

I've been fairly undecided about the kitchen.  Were I to be entirely historically accurate, it would have rough plaster walls and ceiling, and a random plank floor.  I'm considering, though, using bead board wainscoting and linoleum instead.  Thoughts?

The kitchen is on the left, the storage room is on the right, and the inset porch (this I did steal directly from Lincoln's house) is in the middle.  I envision it as being fairly utilitarian.

This is my first Victorian-era house, although I've wanted to build one for ages and have visited many historic homes.  What I find to be the biggest decorating challenge--and it's even more acute in miniature--is capturing the Victorian love of busy patterns, bold colors, and stuff without creating a horrible hodgepodge.  And eyesore!  I've been collecting (what I think will be) my major design elements, so I can see them all together.  This includes wallpaper, flooring, the fabric I plan to use on the larger pieces of furniture, and any other ornament necessary to the room (mirrors, niches, etc.)  After a few false starts--I bought some lovely wallpaper that fits absolutely nowhere--I think I'm finally getting somewhere.

For the living room, a couple of different fabrics, some slightly more bohemian wallpaper, a parlor stove and, find of finds, some miniature-scale grass cloth for wainscoting.

Thoughts?

 In the family room, I'm trying to go for a more relaxed, bohemian feel--to create a room where you can actually imagine people gathering to relax after dinner as a family.  It's still a nice room, and most definitely a public space, but it's also--at least, historically--easygoing and child-friendly.  The formal parlor, on the other hand, is not.  The comparatively more severe golds, oranges, and greens say "sit up straight."  Also, too, while a stove has been installed over the original fireplace in the family room (they were much more efficient), the formal parlor will still have only a fireplace--and, thus, for much of the year be freezing cold.

I'm hoping to work this frame into my overmantel somehow.  Contributing to the severe effect, all the fabrics for the room will tie directly into the colors and/or design of the wallpaper.

The wallpaper for the master bedroom.

I don't plan on using everything I got for this house...or potentially at all.  I purchased a few different flooring sheets, wondering if they could be used either as intended or, potentially, as linoleum ("linoleum") tiles.  I was a little disappointed with the scale of this tile sheet; it's not detailed enough to pass for real marble, but the squares are too large for it to really look like linoleum, either.  So this is going into the miscellaneous materials drawer for now.

OK, but not really what I had in mind.

Still has possibilities, though!

 I wanted to use a little lincrusta in the house, both because I love the way it looks in real life and because, back then--certainly in America--man-made materials were all the rage.  Which is kind of hard to picture now!  Lincrusta was, like linoleum, made from linseed oil and used in a variety of applications.  My personal favorite was/is as wall ornament.  So, I thought I was really clever when I decided to buy a couple of 1:24 scale embossed papers to use.  I'll be making them into dado panels for the wainscoting.  I'll be using their 1:12 scale cousins as ceiling paper in a couple of the rooms.

I plan to use this pattern in the front hall; the angles will pick up the tiles nicely, I think (hope).

And here's the whole sheet.

I thought this would make lovely dado panels for the dining room wainscoting.  Good shapes and textures really work in a monochromatic setting, I think.  Each plays up the other.

 I might have no clue what I'm doing in the kitchen, but I've figured out the hallway.  Both linoleum tiles and encaustic tiles were popular throughout America during this time; linoleum (especially linoleum that looked like encaustic tile) was particularly popular in more rural areas.  It was expensive, and often chosen over (what we think of as) more desirable materials.  So, keeping that in mind, I'll probably doctor this up to look like linoleum.  This is, after all, no gentleman's house.

I promise, these colors really do work together--a fact which will be more obvious with the introduction of some solid colors, i.e. the wood flooring, the paint in the hallway, etc.

I don't know if it's totally obvious from this picture (the lighting really leaves something to be desired), but the orange in the wallpaper is the exact same burnt orange shade that's in the tile sheet.  They pick each other up nicely.

Also very hard to see in this terrible light, but the same orange is picked up again in my bohemian wallpaper.

So there it is.  It's a start.  I've brought up my plastic model-making supplies (although my metalizing sprays still haven't come), so hopefully I'll be able to work on the fixtures over the next month.  We'll be home after Labor Day, and I'm hoping by then that I'll have all my design issues worked out, so I can start right in on building the rest of the components (fireplaces, etc) and start installing everything. 

Thoughts?  It's really OK to tell me it's horrible (grin).  Anyone else facing any design issues?

Floor Tiles?

First off, if you want to see something really awesome, check this out.  Giac, I hope you don't think this is stalker-ish, but I've been (silently) following your progress for a long time now and, well, your work is amazing!  I hope everyone's as inspired by it as I am.  Also, something you've done really well has given me some questions about my own projects, particularly in regards to floors--your tile looks really realistic.

Which brings me to my question, everyone: what do you use for tile, and why?

Here's my dilemma.  On the one hand, I like using the real (sometimes "real", as in the case of stained glass) material whenever possible, i.e. wood, lead panes, etc etc etc.  But when it comes to tile, I can never figure out what to do--and this is why I rarely use it.  Real tile is, well, real tile, but the scale tends to be wrong.  The dips and divides between the individual tiles would be crater-like in real life.  Benefit of using the "right" material aside, they always seem, to me, to take the project out of scale.  Another option are polymer tiles--like the "marlike" tiles I discovered on another glorious blog, the Tudor Dollhouse Project.  And, of course, several talented folks have made their own tiles, using various media.  And, indeed, the "marlike" tiles are wonderful--but, specifically with the encaustic tile packages, I'm not thrilled with the scale.  Or maybe these mosaics aren't meant to be encaustic tile?

Which brings me to my (next) question: what does everyone think about paper tile sheets, such as are made by Les Chinoiseries?  On the one hand, I'm dubious of getting paper to look like real tile--but on the other, reproduced down to a (real) scale, an actual encaustic tile floor would have such tiny divisions between tiles (and the tiles themselves are so tiny!) it would really seem flat.

Also, too, what does everyone think about embossed tile sheets?  I've never worked with them, but have seen some very lovely results on others' blogs.  Are they difficult to work with?  Pro's and con's?

PS: I go back to the city every Friday for work, so next Friday--I forgot this Friday, as I had a very unpleasant meeting--I'll take some pictures of the house so far.  I'm also contemplating building a barn, but this will have to be from scratch, as the only barn kits available are for western-style barns, not English-style barns.  Unless one of you knows something I don't...?

My dollhouse really is turning into more of a farmhouse; color-wise, I've been inspired by a house down the road from where we are now:

PPS: next week, I'm also thinking of bringing up a few small projects, notably the wallpaper panels I'm making for the American Colonial, and the Chrysnbon kits I'm intending to kit-bash.  I've seen others do it--I can do it, too!  I think...

Dollhouse Ceiling Paper--Thoughts

My first thought: there isn't any.

At least, not that's any good.  Depending on the kind of dollhouse you're doing, you have a few different options:

• For a comparatively modest or rustic dollhouse, or a medieval, fantasy, Tudor or Stuart dollhouse, or, indeed, for the back rooms of a grander dollhouse, you have plaster.  This stuff is great--if you have the right application for it.  It's vinyl, and so very easy to apply.  Also, too, the texture is very realistically scaled; once applied, it looks like real plaster.  Generally, in my own work, I prefer the off-white; I just think the end result is a little more visually pleasing.  Plus, too, in real life, plaster of this sort would've aged comparatively quickly.
• For a very grand dollhouse, you can use big people-sized paintable vinyl wallpaper.  This is available from many different websites, in many different patterns.  There are, however, a couple of real problems with it.  First, it's very expensive.  Most websites (and real life stores, at least around here) sell it in double rolls, so you're talking at least a 40.00 investment!  You'd better really like that paper, because you'll be using it a lot.  Second, the smallest pattern repeat I've found in one of these papers is 2"--that means each square, medallion, etc is 2" across.  Great for a manor house, or even a large American Victorian house--not so good, however, for the average dollhouse.  It comes down to an issue of scale: glorious baronial ceilings look a bit odd in houses with 8' ceilings.  Just as in real life, not all 1:12 scale furniture, architectural details, etc are the same "scale."  Use a paper like this in an average-sized home, and it'll out-scale everything else you're trying to use.  
• Dollhouse-specific embossed ceiling paper is my personal favorite choice, at least for most applications, because it's a much more realistic scale for most houses--at least for the houses I'm apt to be working on.  Although I've never done a truly grand manse, I'd like to some day.  When I have the room.  I'm using the embossed dado version of this paper in my not-Lincoln house, at least in the front formal rooms.  The problem, here, is that this paper needs a lot of prep work, is subject to crushing, and only comes in two patterns.  Both of which, at least, are available in 1:12 and 1:24 scale; I see options, here, especially for potentially using the 1:24 scale paper in a 1:12 setting as lincrusta.

The problem becomes: what if you want a plain, untextured ceiling?  You can certainly create one, but I wish there were an easier way.  What I've been doing is gessoing bristol board (basically heavy paper with a smooth surface) and installing at.  It ends up making a very convincing plaster ceiling (as gesso is basically plaster anyway), but it's labor-intensive and, if you're not careful, you can end up sanding out streaks for what seems like eternity.

The scale issue has been huge for me, as I've been collecting my supplies for the not-Lincoln (and for my saltbox at the same time).  With previous dollhouses, I've started work as I was still collecting supplies, and didn't that turn out to be a horrible mistake.  I ended up with wallpapers I didn't like, or that weren't as nice as wallpapers I found later, architectural details that turned out not to go with the rest of the house, etc.  So, this time, I'm taking my time--and it helps, in sticking to this resolve, that we're on holiday and away from my studio!

What do you use for ceilings?

PS: Pictures are coming, I promise!