The Reindeer Keeper

I hadn't thought about my tin dollhouse (similar to the one shown) in years which is sort of ironic since I spent so much time sitting in front of it playing and pretending. This past Christmas as I was deciding what furniture to buy my granddaughter for her dollhouse, the memories of my old tin dollhouse came to mind. That made my purchasing of that dollhouse furniture all the more important. I remembered what it felt like to be sitting there as a owner of a house-my very own house even though it was a dollhouse-a tin dollhouse with sharp corners that would catch hold of me and hurt or catch hold of what I was wearing and stop me cold None of that mattered. It was my house and I could arrange the furniture any old way I wanted to. I could decorate my way. The pink toilet could have been found in the living room by the painted fireplace on the tin wall. The pink bathtub could have been in my tin bedroom. Or the baby playpen with baby inside could have been relocated to the tin