Two Steps Forward...

...And three steps back!  Ugh!  What a busy weekend it has been.  Unfortunately, mostly puttering around the house, trying to ready things for when the weather finally turns.  END OF TIMES ALERT!:  It's still hot and summer-y here, we almost turned on the air-conditioner!  In October?  We usually have the furnace fired up by now.  Spooky.

In spite of the balmy weather, we emptied the fish pond and brought all the gold-fishies in for the winter.  And by 'we, ' I mean Glen!  Don't judge me, yours truly was busy cleaning out the garage.  We finally made the sad decision to sell the little convertible. 'Gia,' poor dear, has been sitting in the garage for ages and we never seem to be able to scrape up the cash to have her repaired. It's only a one-car garage, so the space has been rendered for the most part, useless. 

Until now!

Sad as it was to see Gia towed away, the garage is now positively brimming with possibilities for a new workshop!   And OMG! You would not believe the cache of tools I found. 

Anyway, I did manage to work on Merriman Park a bit, this afternoon.  But I am afraid my efforts were for naught!  OK, you guys: I was once  practically a straight-A student (except in Math) so it's not like I'm a blubbering imbecile.  But whilst trying to hook up the fireplace sconces to the socket strip I blew everything up!  Now, nothing works, and the socket strip warning light is going crazy!  Ugh!

I figured out what I did wrong...I won't say what it was because it's simply too embarrassing for words!  Suffice it to say that it was a typical 'guy-thing': in other words: I should have read the directions. 

Oh, well.  Live and learn, right?

I started cutting the pieces for the cornice --and that was no treat either!  My cornice is made from resin and it's a drag to work with.  And those inside corners all need to be coped which is tough enough on real wood, but the resin --Ugh!-- you have to go slow because the saw blade heats up and starts melting the resin.  It's a gooey mess!

I also added gilt powder to the stair, for extra sparkle.

I got some fireplace stuff:  the grate, fender, andirons and tools are from the local dollhouse store, Little Enchantments, in Edina.  The lady who owns the shop is such a delight --do pop in if you ever find yourself in town.  The vases are from a Canadian source, The Little Dollhouse. (Shout-out to Giac)! They are of an ancient Greek design, I figure the owner of Merriman Park picked them up on his Grand Tour of Europe.

I had to correct a mistake I made in the floor border:  I neglected to factor in the thickness of the wainscot and the skirting and it bothered me that the borders were not all evenly wide.  I have also decided to add a medallion to the canter of the floor.  I could tell by the sound of crickets chirping when I asked what you thought of the old medallion I made up that it didn't quite make the medallion mustard (it's OK --I didn't care for it, either)!  I found a gaw-jess medallion on-line and honeys, you are going to love it!

I need to pick up a pair of lamps for the Hall table.  I bought a frame on-line for the large painting, but when it arrived, it was too small!

What else?  I cut mirrors for the top of the stair, though it probably wasn't necessary--they don't really show.  I'm working on the banister finals, with my new-found tools (no more kitchen knife, thank you very much)! I think I'll take Karin Corbin's advice and buy some 'mini-files.' 

I am thinking about removing the door on the stair landing and replacing it with a tromp-l'oiel view into another room: one of my heroine, Mrs. James Ward Thorne!  Do you think that could work?

Roof

So now I am obsessing about the roof, again!  I'm thinking about adding shallow hips to flank the central gable.  Why?  I don't know why, god knows you won't really see them once the house is perched high on its future shelf.  I'm OCD, remember?  Don't judge me. Truth be told: the flat roof has begun to gnaw on me for whatever reason.  My architectural hero (and the inspiration behind Merriman Park), namely: Thomas Jefferson had the same dilemma with some of his buildings.  He loved the look of a classical, flat roof, but hated the dreadful impracticality that a flat roof provides. Leaky ceilings are such a bore!

Karin Corbin has already convinced me of the complete  travesty that a vulgar, verdigris copper roof  would have been, had I  foolishly installed one on Merriman Park. On the other hand, Karin is absolutely poetical about the supreme elegance, divine sublimity not to mention the utter, unparalleled ton of a weathered, lead roof and honestly I can not disagree with her.  What could I have possibly been thinking?  Why, a verdigris-copper roof is so positively garish by compare.  Like a drag queen in head-to-toe Versace showing up at a DAR luncheon where everyone else is in St John.

So she sends me over to Richard Stacey's website to shop for lead,  and this of course only opens up the can of worms of: real lead, vs faux.  A real lead roof would undoubtedly be gorgeous, if not terribly heavy, expensive and a possible environmental hazard.  (Though Karin, in her subtle wisdom, points out that if I have safety concerns I could always warn my guests that Merriman Park is not a gingerbread house --so kindly do not help yourself to the cornice, thank you very much).

But having a false, painted "lead" roof with genuine lead flashing seems --well, tacky.  I mean, you don't see the Queen of England mixing the Crown Jewels with the Joan Rivers Collection from QVC, do you?

I didn't think so.

 Here I folded a large envelope into a shallow hip roof.  Obviously, the "actual" roof would meet at the pediment gable, but you get the picture.  I suppose the chimneys will have to be higher. *sigh*


Lead wasn't the only roofing material that caught my attention over at Richard Stacey.  He also sells slate roofing, both real and faux, which I daresay would appeal even to the discriminating eye of Ms. Corbin.  


Decisions, decisions!

Tutorial: How to Etch Bricks

Though there are many ways to simulate brick on a dollhouse --beautifully printed papers, embossed wood or latex veneers, intricate stencils, and many other methods-- perhaps the most realistic way is by etching individual scale bricks into paint.  Nothing can quite compare to a "brick" surface finished in this manner.  It is a cost-effective, but highly time-consuming, labor-intensive process. It is the method favored by the dollhouse deities, Mulvany and Rogers.  And if it's good enough for them, well then certainly it's good enough for Merriman Park!   

                                 (The dollhouse Holy Bible)!


 Deborah Knight of my dollhouse miniatures chat group asked how I do it and I thought, "How funny, didn't I already explain the process in my blog?"   Guess I'm spending too much time blabbing on and on about Dark Shadows, and not enough about the nuts and bolts about Merriman Park.               

How to Do It:

Step One:  With any project, surface preparation is key.  Seal your surface with a quality primer.  I used to be on the enamel-primer-only team, but recent improvements to latex primers have brought me around.  (Cleaning up with soap and water, as opposed to chemical solvents was a big factor in my change of heart). 

Step Two:  Two coats of gesso make up your mortar base.  Be sure to tint your gesso with acrylic paints --the au natural gesso is a bit too bright for most projects.  I used a drop or two of burnt sienna for Merriman Park.

Step Three:  On top of the gesso, apply two coats of your brick base color.  Bricks come in many colors and I mixed mine from artist's acrylic paints, but any latex paint will do.  Keep in mind that your finished bricks will look considerably lighter once the bricks are etched into your base coat.  Let base coat dry for at least twenty-four hours.

Step Four:  With a ruler, mark the horizontal mortar joints.  I used 3/16th" for Merriman Park.

Step Five:  Using a small woodworker's gouge, etch the horizontal mortar lines.  I found it helpful to go up two or three inches at a time.  That is, mark your lines for two or three inches and then go ahead and etch them in.  Continue marking and etching.  If your lines are off by even a little, it will show.  You can always paint out any mistakes and do over, but that is such a drag!  The gouge will leave miniature curlicues of acrylic paint all over the place, so be warned!  Use a small, stiff paintbrush to keep them at bay.

       (One of the first brick mock-ups for Merriman Park.  Always     experiment on a piece of scrap before tackling your project)!


Step Six:  Mark your vertical lines.  This creates the "individual bricks" so take your time and be accurate.  Merriman Park is an eighteenth-century house so they would have used the flemish bond, which is what I reproduced.

              (Photographs do not show the detailed, 3-D effect that etched grout lines produce).

Step Seven:  Have a cocktail, rest your eyes and appreciate your work! (Most important step).

I haven't done Step Eight, yet, which is to go back and highlight individual bricks in a random pattern. I'm working on bricking the chimneys right now.  (Chimneys with pots, I might add, thanks to Karin Corbin!