It’s a tiny room – just 8 inches wide by 6 inches high, and a mere 3 inches deep when the case is closed. As it’s at 1:12 scale, that equates to the same number of feet in our measurements.
That suits her ladyship very well, though. She can withdraw to this secluded space and make her plans in private.
As her songbird warbles mournfully above her and the light of her lamp flickers on the table, she puts down her parasol, loosens her corset, sits on the leather-upholstered chair and takes up her journal and pen.
Her ladyship has a dream. She wishes to become a tinkerer. Certainly there are social mores which frown upon such behaviour from a lady in her position, but she finds following her husband and his acquaintances around the grounds, while chatting politely to their dull little wives, incredibly tiresome.
She has persuaded one of the gardeners to tutor her in the rudiments of welding and metalwork, and by patiently dismantling clockwork machinery, she is teaching herself to build simple gadgets. The lamp was one of her first. It’s simple, but effective, switching on when the attached clock shows that dusk has fallen.
Her latest invention sits on the shelves beside her chair. It is a jewel-encrusted mechanical insect which scuttles about the room. Certainly it isn’t yet perfected, but the one thing her ladyship’s life has taught her is endless patience.
There is a short video tour of the room on my Instagram feed. Can’t load it here, for some reason.
The room has attracted considerable interest and several people have expressed a wish to buy it. If it doesn’t sell, it will be on my craft stall in Glastonbury on June 17th, as will copies of her ladyship’s journal.
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