Well, well, well. The instructions were VERY correct in suggesting that we go through the box piece by piece and sort, number, label, and cross off every item. Of course to do this we need a dedicated place to work. Unlike, say, the dining room table. That's where what little progress that happened on my childhood dollhouse actually happened. Ah, that old dining room with the teal indoor-outdoor carpeting (later replaced by brown shag). One would think the basement would be a better place to work. That's where my rock tumbler was. Where there was a paper cutter and tables and desks. Where I rode my tricycle when I was probably three years old. But the basement wasn't an option. By the time I got the dollhouse, the basement was, ahem, full.
But my basement isn't full! Hence two sawhorses, a big hunk-o-wood, and the laundry room. What's most fun is Mud Pie helped me set up this little workstation long before she opened her Christmas present. Did she suspect a thing? Nope. She thought it was a gift-wrapping station. Turns out, it made a splendid place to wrap gifts!
Here we are with the instructions open, baby monitor monitoring, sticky notes, tape, tacky glue. We're ready to rock.
And here a box, labeled by the number given in the instructions. Small pieces in bags (so the cat doesn't run off with them), large pieces on a card table, grouped by number.
So organized! Isn't it pretty?
Here the one item with a missing piece. A missing piece, I say! A single slice of trim, a lonely little check mark I can't yet put on the materials list.
I emailed and was told that they'd ship missing parts for free only once, i.e., make sure I counted everything, which I did. Except shingles and dowels. And window panes. Maybe I should get to counting... Sigh. And here I thought I was done.
For more on the project, click on the Childhood Reclamation Project label below.