Cabinets of Curiosities

Continuing with my series on what’s available at Steampunk-Shrunk, this week I’d like to highlight the Cabinets of Curiosities.

Of all the things made here, I think the gadgets and gizmos are my favourites.  I love scouring charity shops, discount stores, eBay and so forth for tiny weird bits and pieces I can upcycle, combine and transform in wild and wonderful ways.  Inevitably, I was ending up with a mass of very fragile tiny steampunk gadgets, whose purpose I could only guess at.  A few found their way into the room boxes or the hands of my characters, but Charles Tradescant here decided to collect the rest together into wooden cabinets.

The ones available at the moment are all this style (left and above) – about 8 inches/20cm tall and 6 inches/ 15cm wide, freestanding and made of wood, with a perspex window, ten compartments and a decorative fastening catch.

Charles displaying a smaller cabinet – currently out of stock

I suppose they would fit into a tall dolls’ house, but they really look their best as freestanding ornaments on shelves or mantelpieces, where the intricate and eclectic contents can be viewed.  Each is completely unique, with a glorious mixture of books and letters, art works, specimens in jars, skulls, shells and other natural objects as well as the intriguing steampunk contraptions.  All are glued down, to preserve the sanity of the owner, but with moderate pressure they can usually be detached.

There will be three cabinets available at our next stall (Thame Dolls House and Miniatures Fair on Saturday 17th Feb 2018) at £45 each.  They can also be purchased online, with postage and packing extra, although a few items may need to be glued down again on arrival, so have some superglue handy.

Please use the contact form at the bottom of the HOME page on this site if you’d like to know more.

Book a Bargain

When I’m preparing stock for my stall, I like to have something to suit every age and every wallet.

Certainly the poseable porcelain figures, with all their clothes hand stitched and their tiny accessories and (often) new wigs all hand made, come out relatively expensive.  Likewise the room cases, which can take me weeks to create.  These items are not really suitable for children either, being fragile, with some sharp edges and a plethora of what health & safety people refer to as Small Parts.

That’s why I make sure some lines are child-friendly and always have a range of items for under £5.

The cheapest (and of course the best sellers) are the DIY miniature books.  For a mere 50p, customers can buy an A4 sheet containing a ready-to-make printed book, with full detailed instructions.  All they will need are scissors, a glue stick and considerable patience!  One enterprising lady at a sale just before Christmas bought one of these for each of her dinner guests instead of crackers, so that they’d spend a happy hour making them and each have a tiny memento to take home.  Construction needs a steady hand, so I hope not too much wine had flowed during the meal!  These are also popular pocket money purchases for children.

each page individually agedFor those who have less time and patience, there’s a range of ready made books, from tiny blank-paged notebooks and pencils to thicker, fully illustrated printed volumes.  The text of each book appears in this blog, in case the print is too difficult to read.

Here, for information, is a list of the books currently in print with links to their blog posts:

  • The Alarming Clock (available as a DIY book for 50p or a ready-made volume for £2.50)
  • Grimoire (ready-made book with each page carefully ‘aged’ for £4.50)
  • Molly – by Herself (DIY book for 50p)
  • The Magical Mechanical Bird (DIY book for 50p)
  • The Vital Chapter (The text is printed in blue towards the end of the linked post.  The ready-made book costs £3.50)
  • Journal (this ready-made book contains a few pages of her Ladyship’s notes.  The rest is blank and it costs just £2.50. The journal entries are based on the linked story, and the Case of the Withdrawing Room is also still available for sale at £48)
  • Heart of Glass (a ready-made book which was serialised here – Part 1 and here -part 2.  It costs £3.50)
  • Diary of a Tinkerer (My personal favourite!  A ready-made book which costs £3.50 and was serialised in four parts at these links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4.)  Note: Young Henry was last heard of piloting an airship somewhere, although an older and wiser version of himself – such things are possible with time-space anomalies – resides with me and is not for sale!  His original engine room, however, is still available at £58.

People who come to my stalls keep complaining that they find my 1/12 scale books difficult to read :) so with the help of my miniature tinkers, I put together some illuminating manuscript readers, with magnifying lens and lamp. Come and try them at the Thame Miniatures Fair in mid February.
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#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #modelling #miniatures #manuscriptsHappy reading, and should purchasers still wish to try reading the original volumes, we do have a few Illuminating Manuscript Readers, with magnifying lens and bright lamp for £14.  (It’s pictured here on a centimetre square grid, to give an idea of scale.)

All the above items are also available for mail order, with postage and packing extra.  Please use the contact form at the end of the HOME page on this website for any enquiries.

Upping the Date

Greetings to all from the grey, damp and murky land of Avalon, where life, myth and mystery combine curiously amongst the swirling mists (well, actually thundering hail storms at the moment, but that’s a temporary glitch, I’m sure).

We felt the arrival of a new year merited an update on how things are progressing here at Steampunk-Shrunk HQ.  When I say ‘we’ I refer to myself – a slightly eccentric but mostly harmless white-haired writer-and-educator-turned-miniaturist – and the cluster of (far more eccentric) 1/12 scale figures who share this compact and slowly sinking residence.
Yes, it is indeed sinking. It used to be level with the road outside when it was built, a mere three-hundred-and-something years ago. Alas, it has failed to keep pace with the world around it and is now reached by stepping down from the pavement into our semi-subterranean world. It all adds to the general weirdness…

We are currently working alone, since the Steampunk Dolls’ House – our fellow enterprise based in Shropshire – almost sold out over Christmas and its few remaining residents are in the process of moving to new premises.  Nothing daunted, and buoyed up by moderate successes last year, we have decided to take to the road this year and flaunt our wares in far-flung areas of the United Kingdom.

Sadly, we possess only two vehicles between us, and both of those are at 1/12 scale.  Determined not to allow that to dissuade us, however, we have purchased a suitcase of gargantuan proportions and one of those magical devices for taking card payments from customers.  Many hours perusing bus and train timetables and hunting out bargain-priced accommodation means that we are about to commence our Grand Tour.

Messrs Crackington and Balsover are busily creating an emporium filled with a host of cunning contrivances and devious devices, which will be available for purchase at our forthcoming sales.

Some of their wonders, including the mysterious Oracular Device and the dangerous-looking Phosphorus Pump are displayed here.

Over the next few weeks, we will be highlighting more of the delights you can expect to discover on the Steampunk-Shrunk stalls which will be appearing around the land.

Our first venue will be the Thame Miniatures Fair (in Oxfordshire) on Saturday 17th February,  followed by a weekend Steampunk Convention on March 24th and 25th in Shrewsbury, Shropshire.

We’d be delighted to meet you at one of these events and hope you’ll be able to join us.

 

 

 

 

 

The Alarming Clock

I, Ebenezer Crackington, am by trade a clockmaker.  I have worked at this trade since I completed my apprenticeship in the beautiful city of Paris, France, many years ago, at the age of twenty-two.

For eighteen years I made a reasonable living producing table and mantle clocks of the finest quality, encased in glass domes so that the mechanism could be viewed by the owners.

One memorable day, however, my shop was visited by none other than Lord Horatio Backgammon.

Imagine my amazement as this great gentleman entered the door and removed his hat, just as any lesser person might do.

I bowed to his lordship and offered him a chair, wishing that I had some upholstered seating, rather than the plain wooden variety.

Nevertheless, his lordship deigned to sit upon this humble piece of furniture with no complaint and addressed me in the following manner: 
“Crackington,” he said, “You have been recommended to 
me by certain gentlemen at my club as being a first rate craftsman.  Would you say they are correct?”

No doubt my face reddened rather at this most unexpected compliment, but I kept my head and replied, “Why I certainly believe it to be the case, Your Lordship, judging by the testimonials I have received from satisfied customers.”

“Good show,” Lord Backgammon responded.  “In that case, I have a most particular commission for you.”

I promptly availed myself of a pen and my order book, hoping that my exterior appearance remained calm, despite my inner excitement.

Lord Horatio Backgammon informed me that, for reasons he was unable to disclose, he needed to wake and rise at a various times during the night in order to attend meetings of an extremely significant nature.  His prompt arrival at these rendezvous was of the utmost importance. 

Unfortunately, his lordship was a very heavy sleeper and was having great difficulty waking on time.

He asked whether I had any experience in constructing adjustable mechanical alarm clocks.  I assured him that I had served as apprentice under M. Antoine Redier, the inventor and patent holder of such devices.

“Well they are useless!” his lordship informed me.  “I require a device at least ten times louder than such paltry machines and one which involves a further element of surprise.  Can you do it?”

I assured him that I could, and would start work on it that very day.

Lord Backgammon left his card and a generous down payment and departed.

I commenced by using a double bell for the alarm mechanism, with a strong beater which alternated between the two.  I then constructed a large claxon, which I fashioned from a trombone horn, which moved about in a haphazard and suitably alarming fashion when activated.

Since I was concerned that the ensuing noise might perforate his lordship’s eardrums, I installed a decibel gauge, which would shut down the alarm if dangerous sound levels were reached. 

Lord Backgammon was delighted with his device and pronounced it satisfactory in every respect.

 

Thus I find myself the inventor of the Ebenezer Crackington Alarming Clock.

Steam Birds to you and me

Silver-bellied lesser-hatted shriek in a 2cm glass dome.
www.steampunk-shrunk 
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #bird #miniature #modelling“Ornithological taxi-chrono-polymy.”

Henry stared blankly at Charles.  “You lost me somewhere around the taxi,” he admitted.

Charles grinned.  “So you understood the ornithological part?”

“Yes – birds, and I can SEE they are birds of various kinds.  Nicely mounted, too. I like the glass cases. Kindly explain the rest of the title.”

Taxi- means to organise or put in order,” Charles responded. “You are familiar with taxidermy, no doubt?”

“Obviously – stuffed animals and such,” huffed Henry.
Another of the miniature birds
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#steampunkshrunk #modelling #miniatures #bird

“So taxidermy is, etymologically speaking, the art of organising a deceased creature’s skin (that’s the dermy part) to make it look lifelike by – yes – stuffing it carefully, adding glass eyes and whatnot.  Well I haven’t used the skins of dead birds for my process.  I’ve used watch parts, which is the chrono, and a substance known as polymer clay, which you brought back from one of your time-travel excursions to the twentieth century.  I decided polymy would be a suitable term for that. Simple really.”

“Hmm, if you happen to have eaten a dictionary,” observed Henry. “It doesn’t exactly slip off the tongue, though, does it?  Surely you need a simpler name if you’re planning to market these handsome creatures.  Steam Birds, for instance.”

“STEAM birds?” spluttered Charles. “Where the devil is the logic in that? They don’t relate to steam in any way.  They merely sit in their cases and look decorative.”

Last of the birds for now.
www.steampunk-shrunk.com
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #bird #miniaturesHenry paused for a moment, looking pensive. Then a large smile crossed his face.
“Yes,” he said, firmly. “It stands for Small Technical Experimental Avian Models.  Avian refers to birds, Charles, as I’m sure you know.”

Charles regarded him for a moment, then erupted into peals of laughter.
“Touché, old chap!  Most ingenious!  Very well, then – STEAM Birds they will be.”

The crested red-backed cogfinch.
www.steampunk-shrunk
#steampunkshrunk #modelling #miniatures #steampunk #birdIf you are planning to visit any of our forthcoming Steampunk-Shrunk sales (see home page for details) in the next few months, you will be able to see and perhaps buy one of Charles’ ingenious little birds, such as the Crested Red-backed Cogfinch shown here.

 

Tinkering with Time

George Entwhistle, a patents clerk by day, had always enjoyed tinkering.  The trouble was, tinkering could be a somewhat noisy activity.  Living as he did in a terraced property, he had to contend with frequent complaints from neighbours and visits from members of the constabulary.

In consequence, he’d been banned from hammering, sawing, welding or producing anything with a tendency to explode between the hours of 8pm and 10am, and all day on Sundays.  This, given the long hours he worked at the patents office, made it difficult for him to achieve anything of note.  George felt cheated by life.

All this changed, though, the day he realised that the blocked up door in the sitting room did not, as he’d always imagined, lead to the parlour.  Careful measuring and still more careful (and virtually silent) plan drawing showed that there was a two and a half foot gap between the blocked door and the parlour wall.

Working only between the hours of 7.30 and 8 in the evening, George carefully prised open the mysterious door and discovered, to his great amazement, a staircase leading down.  Eagerly, he availed himself of an oil lamp and the poker from the fireplace, and cautiously descended.

Cellar Outlet, Gang, Dark, CreepyImagine George’s surprise and delight as he discovered a further door at the base, which opened quite easily, revealing a large cellar!

Certainly it was cold and uninviting, but the walls were thick.  George raced upstairs, grabbed his noisiest intruder alarm – one of his most unpopular inventions amongst the neighbours during the testing stage – and took it down to his newly discovered domain.  Here he set it off and left it in the cellar, shutting the door behind him and returning to the sitting room.  Despite the deafening clang of bells and shriek of whistles echoing around the empty space below, there was virtually no sound to be heard from either the sitting room or parlour.  Despite it being 8.30, not a single neighbour banged on the wall or hammered on his front door.
“Eureka!” exclaimed George.
“Quiet in there or I’ll summon a constable!” came an angry shout from the occupant of number 28.

From that day onward, George worked to transform the cellar into a tinker’s workshop.  He extended the heating pipes downwards to power a boiler, which not only heated the workshop, but allowed him to brew a much-needed cup of tea from time to time.  He constructed a doorbell with a wire connecting it to the front of his house, so that callers could be heard.  He made himself a shelf and workbench and even installed a clock and mirror.  The result was a commodious and most agreeable work space.  George was a happy man.

He is currently busying himself with constructing a clockwork time machine.  He’d long had a plan, gleaned from a combination of the failed ideas of several other tinkers.  Working in a patents office did have certain advantages.

As you can see, his contraption is well underway, and he’s able to fire it up for short periods.

“Only a matter of time,” George mutters to himself, smiling slightly at his own wit, “Now that I no longer have to suffer time restraints, soon I shall be the master of time!”

Time will tell…

 

Should you wish to inspect George’s cellar workshop and the items he is creating there, do come to any of the Steampunk-Shrunk stalls at various events over the coming months.

The details of venues, dates and times can be found on the home page of this website.  

Oh, and if you come along, do ask George to demonstrate the time machine.  He loves to show off his workmanship.

 

 

A Visit to Brasston

It was, not surprisingly, young Molly who found the book first.  She’d read her way through everything in the Steampunk-Shrunk library  – even the Suffragette newspapers – and had been on the lookout for something new.

the group are becoming excited

“Excuse me, Lady Cholmondeley,” she said, dropping a pretty curtsy to Josephine, “But do you think your husband, seeing as how he’s the Lord Admiral of the High Fleet, could take me on one of his sky ship machines to Brasston?  They’ve got a perfectly splendid aerodrome and I’m sure they’d allow him to dock there.  Let me show you the pictures.  They’re in colour!”
“Why I’ve never heard of the place, my dear. Are you sure you’ve got the name correct?” smiled Josephine.
“Oh yes, Your Ladyship, Ma’am. I think it must be very famous. It won the ‘Most Cosmopolitan City Award’ in 1850.”

Josephine started to look through the book – a most difficult process since, unlike the inhabitants of Shrunk Towers, this book had not been shrunk to one twelfth of its original size.  She had to obtain assistance from several other members of the community and they in turn became mesmerised by the splendours of Brasston.

“Good lord!” Barnaby Balsover exclaimed, “There’s a chap there having his shoes polished by a clockwork automaton!  Quite remarkable!”
“Certainly,” agreed Ava Brassfeather, “And it says they do tours of the clock factory and provide cake and tea.”
“I believe it says you have to pay extra for cups and saucers, though, Ma’am,” Molly whispered, jumping in alarm when Ava made a loud tutting sound.
Molly wasn’t sure whether this was aimed at herself or the facilities available at the works, but she didn’t venture to speak again.

A touching moment for the valiant couple

When Algernon returned from a successful raid on a troublesome bunch of sky pirates who had been terrorising the airways above Penge, he was met by a mass of pleading faces.
His wife took his arm, gazed alluringly into his eyes and purred, “My dearest…”

“Hmm,” he said finally, once he’d had a strong cup of gunpowder tea and an opportunity to peruse the book.  “I strongly suspect that this is a work of fiction, created by this rather splendid gentleman on the back cover, Mr Ashley G.K. Miller.  I’m not convinced that the city exists.”

“Well if anyone can find it, it’s you, Old Boy,”  announced Lord Horatio Backgammon, and the others joined in a chorus of agreement with his Lordship’s sentiment.

And so, as I write, the entire group is busy packing and preparing for an epic journey in one of the fleet’s most capacious dirigibles, while Algy is earnestly poring over his charts, in search of the city of Brasston.

 

Should you wish to discover this remarkable location for yourself, dear reader, I suggest visiting Mr Miller’s Facebook page, where you will find all the details you need.

 

 

Steampunk Christmas?

The two terms don’t sit particularly comfortably together, I feel.  As I pondered the possibility of adding seasonal items to Steampunk-Shrunk’s stock for the upcoming Christmas sales, images of rusty Santas and welded junk Christmas trees felt less than inspiring.

I’d more or less given up, when I opened a draw and found some of these little creatures, bought in last year’s January sales, peering hopefully up at me.

There was already a box of vintage watch parts sitting on the desk, and the two seemed to fit together perfectly.

So now there are some steampunked reindeer, some with tiny cogs for eyes, while others have real (industrial grade) rubies – Rudolph the red-eyed reindeer?

By now some modicum of Christmas spirit was seeping into my veins and I started hunting around the studio for other items that could be combined to create something festive.
“How would one decorate a steampunk Christmas tree?” I asked myself.
Idly I began twisting wire around needles to form coils and threading them with whatever came to hand – vintage beads from an old necklace, cog wheels and watch parts, bells, charms and even miniature teapots. The copper coils were bent and twisted at crazy angles and the weird, dangling objects that emerged were hung from lengths of ribbon.

Who can say whether others will share my concept of a steampunk Christmas?  Time will tell.

These One Of A Kind oddities will be on display at the two December stalls where Steampunk-Shrunk is exhibiting.  See home page on this site for details of dates, times and venues.

Autolycus

Sometimes we like to push ourselves a bit – yes?

I fell in love with this image on Instagram and decided to try and make something similar at 1/12 scale... I had these cheap old prams kicking around, so they were the starting point. 
www.steampunk-shrunk.com 
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #miniatures #modellingSo I was staring at this gorgeous picture on Instagram – yes, this one here – and thinking how much I’d like to create something like it.  Now I don’t have a soldering iron or any other metal-working skills or equipment.  My woodworking ability stops at cutting up coffee stirrers and lolly sticks with a junior hacksaw.  In fact, I’m strictly a glue-and-cardboard person if I need to make anything rigid.  It didn’t look particularly hopeful.

Then I remembered that I had a couple of cheap 1:12 scale metal prams.  I put them next to the photo and decided the larger one might just work.  Well, it was worth a try.

First part mounted on the chassis. 
www.steampunk-shrunk.com
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #miniatures #modellingFirst there was much measuring, pattern cutting and trial and error with some nice brown card I had lying about.  Next each piece was lined with card-backed fabric in a subdued floral pattern and the centre part of the body was glued in place.  It looked roughly the right shape.

Putting together the dashboard, steering wheel and brake was easy, as was the little padded leather seat.  My horseless carriage was coming together.

If it was going to be horseless, it needed an alternative power source.  Steam – obviously.  I cobbled together a little steam engine to go on the front and used a drinking straw covered in copper tape for the funnel.

The basic bodywork in place (cardboard with several coats of clear gloss varnish)
www.steampunk-shrunk.com 
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #miniatures #modellingIt was at around this point that the vehicle’s name came to me.  In Shakespeare’s A Winter’s Tale, there’s a character called Autolycus.  He describes himself as ‘A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles’ and that is exactly what this vehicle was becoming.  A spring from a ballpoint pen, the stick from a cotton bud, several small rubber washers, along with beads, chains, charms and jump rings from my junk jewellery collection all went into it.  So The Autolycus it would be.

The boot was turned into a strong box, with tiny nail art crystals for the rivets.  The windows were cut from clear acrylic packaging and set into suede strip seals.

Finally – and very nervously – I put the whole body together.  A couple of coats of clear gloss acrylic varnish gave it look not too unlike polished wood, and strips of leather thong worked well for trims.  The roof frame was – obviously – made from coffee stirrers!  The door was attached with a strip of cotton tape and some faux hinges made of beads stuck to the outside.  More beads and some earring wires made a pair of suitably ancient-looking lamps and at last The Autolycus was finished.

Obviously it lacks the beautiful clean lines of the vehicle that inspired it, but I’m not unhappy with the overall result and I’m sure the ladies and gents at Steampunk-Shrunk will be rather interested in this strange vehicle, despite the fact that it’s the steampunk equivalent of a smart car and only the skinniest and most agile contortionist would be able to get inside and steer the thing. No automatic alt text available.

 

The Autolycus will be on display at various Steampunk days and miniature fairs in the New Year.  Check the home page on this site for details of dates and venues.

 

 

A Point of Honour

Freddy.
Www.steampunk-shrunk.com 
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #miniatures #modellingFreddy Huntington-Groff casually selected one of the silver-handled screwdrivers from his breast pocket and lifted the bonnet.

“Hang on, old chap,” Tobias cried, leaping from the driving seat and vaulting over the door.  “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Fan belt needs tightening. Can’t you hear it when you start her up? Won’t take a jiffy. There. that should do it. Start her up again old boy. She should purr like a kitten now.”
“I’ll check later. Got some pressing business to attend to right now,” muttered Tobias savagely as he strode away.

Yes, tensions were building. Tobias had always viewed the car as his ‘Angel’ but now, with Freddy’s arrival on the scene, he appeared to have a rival.

Freddy was quietly spoken, handsome, suave – some would say oily. He knew all there was to be known about cars, and when he slipped on his driving goggles, took his place at the wheel and tossed his top hat on to the passenger seat, he looked as if he belonged there.
“Don’t mind if I take her for a spin, do you?” he’d enquire, casually, while Tobias stood by, smouldering.

It happened that the Admiral’s wife, the lovely Josephine Cholmondeley, was observing these events.
“Gentlemen,” she murmured sweetly, when Freddy returned from his drive with a barely-concealed smirk playing around his lips, “Surely there is a dignified way for you to settle your differences?”

Both men turned to look at her. It was difficult to look anywhere else when Josephine was in the vicinity.
“What are you suggesting, Madam?” asked Freddy, somewhat cautiously.
“I believe Lady Josephine is suggesting a duel,” said Tobias, his eyes glittering more dangerously than ever. “Am I correct, Your Ladyship?”

Josephine laughed softly. “It would indeed be an honourable solution, Mister Blasthorner. Shall I arrange a little tiffin party?”
“Ah, what type of weapon did you have in mind?” Freddy enquired.
“Cows, naturally,” replied Josephine.
“What else?” smiled Tobias, grimly. “Cows it is, then. Four o’clock Saturday?”

Freddy’s state of confusion and alarm was not lost on Josephine. “If you’d just accompany me on a perambulation around the grounds, Mister Huntington-Groff,” she murmured sweetly, “I’ll explain the uh, intricacies of the rules of tea-duelling as followed in these parts. I know they can sometimes vary from place to place.”
Gratefully, Freddy took his place at her side.

“Ahem, tea-duelling, Lady Chol-?” began Freddy, when they were out of Tobias’ earshot.
“It’s pronounced ‘Chumley’, dear Sir, and yes, a tea-duel is a most noble way to settle differences in an honourable manner.  No one is injured, but the results are absolutely binding, you understand.”
Freddy nodded, marginally comforted.
“But – cows?” he ventured.
Josephine gave her tinkling laugh. “Malted milk biscuits. They bear the image of a cow; hence the name. Each duellist is given a keg of tea – I always use fine bone china cups. I should have mentioned that I am a certified Tiffin Mistress, qualified to preside at these events.  Very basically, you both dunk your chosen weapon on the command, leave it in the tea for my count of five.  You win by being the last to take a clean nom, or bite, from the biscuit.”

Josephine went on to explain more of the rules, which you, dear reader can discover by watching the cinematographic production above.

The following Monday, I was approached by Tobias.
“Madam,” he said solemnly, “It seems that Huntington-Grof is more suited to working with The Angel than I.  I feel my talent lies more in creative pursuits than fumbling beneath car bonnets.  I have decided to travel to the Steampunk Dolls’ House.  My hope is that from there I will move on to a new home, where my talents and advice will be appreciated.  I hope you understand.”
“Indeed I do, Tobias,” I told him. “I’ll miss you, but I’m sure you’ll be very happy amongst the ladies and gentlemen there.”

The Steampunk Dolls’ House can be found by clicking here.  Car interior complete. 1/12 scale.  The map can be removed from the leather pocket.
Www.steampunk-shrunk.com 
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #miniatures #vintagecarTobias and several other members of the Steampunk – Shrunk community will be joining the others there within the next few weeks, while Freddy,  Josephine and The Angel will remain with those of us who visit craft fairs, steampunk events and miniatures sales.