playing with blocks and paper
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Remember when you were a kid, and you had that set of blocks… …some of them were solid wood, maybe in different colors, and …some of them were clear, either plastic (if you’re not so old) or glass (if you’re old as the hills upon which you intend to build a house–wait, I’m getting ahead [...]
Remember when you were a kid, and you had that set of blocks…
…some of them were clear, either plastic (if you’re not so old) or glass (if you’re old as the hills upon which you intend to build a house–wait, I’m getting ahead of my post)
…some of them were some other material that tasted vaguely of paste.
You liked to set them up all on top of each other until the pile fell down, or you neatly arranged them in perfect rows, or you fed them to the family pet.
I’m convinced those folks who played with blocks far into childhood–long after the rest of us moved on to GI Joes and Barbies and toy wagons and, nowadays, Worlds of Extreme War with Things Blowing Up a Lot–those kids who were absorbed in arranging their blocks into fantasy mansions and fortresses went on to become architects. And builders.
Here’s another fun quasi-model; this one just cries out for a tiny Barbie doll (and/or Ken).
I jest, I know, but I’m really psyched. Even though this looks, right now, like something from a CSI episode–anybody remember the Miniature Killer?–it’s making this whole building-a-house thing begin to seem real, and not in the scary adult way investing a couple hundred thousand of dollars in a piece of land does, but in a way that makes my inner child hum something to herself straight out of Winnie-the-Pooh.
See where the courtyard goes? And the screened porch off our bedroom? You can’t see the library–it’s still gestating, maybe wrapped around the living room, maybe next to the bedroom–but you can see where the garden will go.
OK, here’s another one. Just because I think these are really cool.
This one’s a little more reality-based, what with the plat map and all, and shows approximately where, on the land we’re buying, the house would probably go. Yes, I know it looks like Play-Dough, right back to childhood memories (I can smell the stuff as I write this), but that’s a little tiny model of what will soon enough become Fred.
And it doesn’t look like we’ll have any weirdness around the land purchase, though if the gods are listening, please don’t rain down firestorms on us because I said that. No curses, please.