It’s not like me to refrain from posting for two weeks. Eating for two (okay, more like three) and watching back episodes of Project Runway have kept me horribly busy. I am now an authority in the business of doing next to nothing. Give me a few more weeks–I’m aspiring to expert status.
But yesterday, something fun came to our house. A house, actually. Made by my father, for Jack. A "Star Wars" house. (Brett has asked that we not call it a "doll" house. I will comply.) Looky here:
It’s over four feet tall and has six rooms–one for Darth Vader, one for good Jedis and one for bad Jedis, with rooms for other figurines to be determined. The roof lifts up to reveal a secret compartment for weapons, prisoners, etc. It’s fabulous.
Jack and I are going to decorate each room. We’ll hit the thrift stores for tiny furniture and accents. Jack has decided on red walls for the Darth Vader dwelling, while I see miniature quilts on every wall and bed. Everyone needs a quilt to snuggle under. Even Darth Vader.
My dad has been a woodworker for many, many years, creating beautiful bowls, frames, puzzles–you name it, he’s made it. I love that this house is a special creation from Grandpa, just for Jack. Daddy, wait until you see what you call your "labor of love" all dressed up! (But in a very manly way, of course.)
Grandpa and newborn Jack (with Grammie Ruth Ann in the background), 2004.
Love you Daddy, and thank you. We can’t wait to get our imaginations going!