Tiny Me

It’s been another crafty week at the mydangblog household. First, you may remember the peel and stick wallpaper that Ken and I used to create the illusion of a bookcase door which leads to our secret library? Well, it’s not much of an illusion when it starts to fall off the panel attached to the door (as if the illusion wasn’t already problematic based on the size, and worse, the bizarre titles of the books on the peel and stick bookcase—Dawn Fly Stuff is still my favourite and you can read about all the rest in a previous post called Lost In Translation). But my tremendous disappointment at the less than sticky stickers was relieved when Ken said, “I have a great idea—I’ll get some trim and moulding and tack it all down with actual wood that looks like a bookshelf.” And that’s what he did. It looks even better than it did before the books all started to fall off, especially since the giant fake candle sconces in the middle are now hidden. But of course, the trim had to all be painted the same colour. Which I volunteered to do before I realized that I would have to use painter’s tape to protect the books in EVERY SINGLE SQUARE. It took me 3 minutes to paint the trim. It took me OVER AN HOUR to tape it all up. Still, at the end of the whole process, I think it looks even more realistic than it did before, and the stickers so far are staying stuck.

And then, because I was in A MOOD, I decided to tackle my new miniature room, and for the record, let me just clarify that it’s a miniature room, NOT A DOLL HOUSE because that’s a road that, as much as I’d love to go down, is also a rabbit hole that I may never emerge from. But last week, before we went to that awards banquet, I made Ken stop at an antique market up north because I had seen a Facebook post from one of their vendors who specializes in miniatures. Not only him, as it turns out—this place is the MECCA for tiny things and I was super-excited by what I bought, I mean, I got a cute little HARP among other things. I’d been thinking about it all for several days and rearranging things on the counter and looking for ephemera and whatnot, so after our secret library door success, Ken built me a box and I started the room. It turned out even better than I’d hoped and I’m so happy with it. Ken took a look when I was finished though:

Me: What do you think?
Ken (silently calculating): There are 3 clocks in this room.
Me: Of course there are 3 clocks. How else will Tiny Me know what time it is?
Ken: None of the clocks work.
Me: Tiny Me is aware, KEN. Time is a construct.
Ken: That…doesn’t make any sense.
Me: It’s my room—Tiny Me can have as many clocks as she wants!
Ken: Okay, Susab.

In case you’re confused, ‘Susab’ was the name on my place card at the awards banquet we went to. So to recap—they spelled my last name wrong on the press release, they had ‘Susan’ on the seating chart, and then ‘Susab’ on the place card. No wonder I didn’t win—they didn’t even know who I was! I should have just told them to use Tiny Me.

36 thoughts on “Tiny Me”

  1. The clock thing reminded me of 7th grade shop class, where we had to design and build a model miniature home out of…. whatever that rigid foamy material was called. I swear to Dog I put a clock in every room in that house, including the bathroom!!! Unfortunately, the kids on the bus smashed my finished product when I got to take it home, and what was left of it eventually got pitched.

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  4. There are three chairs in your room so it makes sense to have three clocks. If three people sit in there they each have their own clock. And there’s an independent coffee shop near me that’s in a very old building. There’s a hole in the wall and rather than covering it up or filling it in they’ve created a tiny sitting area there with a miniature table and chair. It’s really cool to work with something like that rather than just getting rid of it.

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  5. I’m so glad Ken had the brilliant idea of putting trim, now it won’t peel. The doom looks awesome by the way, lol. Tiny you can do whatever she wants, just stay away from the kitchen at night because, you know Mr. Billion Legs is crawling around there. You should have told the banquet people to use Player One instead, your non government name 😆.

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  7. I think a “susab” is a desert beetle that at night, crawls over camels feet picking and eating sloughing skin.
    Or maybe it’s the name of a delicious flatfish found in estuaries off the coast of Perth.
    Then again, it might be the name of an archaic type of cartoon depicting barristers of ol’ England doing funny dances when they win a case.
    In any case, what are the top 3 things you’re going to rescue if your house catches fire? Not pets, not Ken, “stuff”?

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  8. I had a beautiful dollhouse with wood floors and pretty shingles on top. I rearranged all the rooms even through my twenties. Unfortunately, during our last move, it was crushed. I was so saddened by this. Seeing your tiny room reminded me of how much I loved mine and enjoyed collecting miniatures for it, in a positive way. 🌺🩷 Your tiny you will love that beautiful room with three clocks and a harp. 🌺

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  9. So, Susab, in my senior year in high school I missed “picture day” and so wasn’t in the yearbook. Instead, at the bottom of the last page was a short list in small font, labeled “not pictured,” with my name there two or three down from the top, misspelled. Actually not misspelled: instead of Roy it said Ron. So, it would seem that I was never there, a theory bolstered by my generally unlearned demeanor and a reasonable explanation for why automatic doors in grocery stores don’t work for me.

    Again, had I been at your dinner, my card would have said Rob, and once again I’m not mistaken for someone else. (Or something like that.)

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