Sheer insanity

... is the only possible explanation for my blowing an entire month's allowance on this derelict second-hand Victorian great monster of a doll-house. It has live wires coming out of all the walls, peeling wall-paper, untreated wooden floors, missing windows, scant and ugly furniture, no front door...


I would have been quite safe from the demons of purchase if it hadn't been for a treacherous ray of sunlight (never there when you need them, but if they can cause any mischief ...). The light falling through the windows, and I suddenly thought: 'I want to live in this house; this will be my room, there, with my desk right by the window, and this room here will make a beautiful bathroom...' I was lost by then.




Insane, buying a doll-house at the age of 32. Insane, being so damned excited about it. Insane, throwing a fit because your three-year old has her own ideas about the decoration:


- Dit is een waterkamer, mama, met allemaal water, voor Bubulle de vis, en hier kan Emilie de schildpad wonen, gaan we lekkere blaadjes sla neerleggen, ja? (This is a water-room, mama, for Bubulle the fish, and Emilie the tortoise can live here, we can put nice lettuce leaves all over the floor, yes?)
- NO, NO, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!