Here's my first fairy house, under construction. I'm going to have to break down and buy some snappy exterior-grade paint to finish the job.
Ages ago, I used to make similar-type bird houses and peddle them around town and beyond, and fairy houses seemed like a natural, no-brainer progression, right? I'm going to whip up a whole mess of them and set them up around the little pond in the back yard. That is --I mean-- where the 'new, improved' pond is going to be...
The beginnings of my waterfront fairy |
I fear if nobody buys the fairy houses, I could quite possibly end up homeless --but at least the damn fairies won't be! (P.S. Jesus: I know You were a carpenter, so please forgive me for providing housing to pagan woodland creatures. Amen).
A page from the Fall, 1998 Legacy catalog |
Way back in the day, I ended up selling my birdhouses through a catalog, which meant that I had to sort of mass-produce the things. Ugh! I may as well been sentenced to hell because the only thing I like better than reproducing the same item over and over and over again is chewing on wads of tinfoil.
I still have the original prototype from --ahem-- 1997-98. OMG, how old is that? ...Well, you do the math. Fast-forward to today and it looks rather spooky in all its forlorn decay. It's held together by a miraculous blend of squirrel poop and spiderwebs, a concoction that gives Krazy Glue a run for its money. Still, I'm afraid to touch the thing, lest it completely fall to dust and ruin.
My vintage bird cabin --like its builder--has seen its better days |
Rosell & the Giant Floating Head of yours truly snap a selfie in front of Merriman Park |
Enjoy Rosell's gorgeous dollhouse, coming up next!