Storytelling Runs in My Family

I'm so happy to have had so many readers laugh over my pulpy Science Fiction post. I really do appreciate all of you stopping by and I hope you come back again soon.

As a thank you, I thought I'd share a special treat with all my readers: A private glimpse into my mother's dollhouse village.
That's right: village.

So take off your cloak and make yourself at home.The village is in my parents' basement. It began when Melissa and I were kids. My grandfather built us a two room dollhouse to fit our favorite rag dolls, but my mom has always been more of a doll lover than either of her daughters. Over time (there was a building boom right after Melissa and I left for college) the village began to form. Now it's an entire community complete with a meeting house, general store, school house, and tavern.


I took a bunch of pictures over Thanksgiving, because this village is truly a work of art and a labor of love. It's constantly growing and changing. It features antiques and treasures from all over the world--Arizona to Austria. My grandfather and mom have made all the structures as well as much of the furniture. My mom has sewn some of the clothes and most, if not all, of the bed linens. It's truly astounding.



And I realized, this is a story that she's telling. She knows the names of the people who live in this town. They have families and pets and jobs. I hadn't really thought of it that way before, but this is a three dimensional story as well as art and hobby.
Sometimes people don't get it. They think the whole dollhouse village thing is weird. Thankfully my mom has never let other people bother her. She doesn't care what they think and she will never apologize for creating something beautiful.I want to be like my mom when I grow up.