Holographic Reflections

20161230_192628-1Professor Laszlo Erazmus here.  Delighted to see you all again.

I felt it was high time I updated you on the comings and goings at Steampunk-Shrunk Towers, now the plague doctors have departed and life has returned to what passes for normal hereabouts.

Mrs S has survived the strange times and is currently hunting in various attics and cobweb-coated cupboards for the last few items to be restored to our virtual shop.  The stock room is full to bursting and our resident tinkers are bearing the thoughtful expression which presages a burst of frenetic activity, usually resulting in more interesting gizmos and gadgets for sale.

12th scale Holographic Hand Mirror  Steampunk Dollhouse gold without ringI am kept busy producing my holographic hand mirrors – a modest contribution to the SteampunkDollsHouse‘s stock, but definitely a best seller, with many five star reviews to their credit.  Miniature Photographic Studio  Model Photographer and Shop in image 0However I did permit myself a brief respite to visit the photographic studio of one of our newest residents – Mr Harold Wallington.  I’m sure you’ll agree that his photographic portrait (above) captures my likeness rather well and I would earnestly recommend his services should you wish to procure an image for yourself.  Mr Wallington and his shop can be found at this link.

We look forward to welcoming many of our patrons back to the shop in the ensuing months and indeed to take Steampunk-Shrunk out into the wider world once again as long as the plague continues to subside.

Plague Doctors!

Well, Steampunk-Shrunk Towers has had its fair share of, erm, unusual residents over the years, but when we noticed this group of individuals skulking around Clockton-upon-Teas, we were somewhat alarmed.

Henry, who is a relatively fearless and friendly chap popped down to have a word with them.

Alas, conversation was not easy.  A combination of strong Italian accents and huge masks stuffed with herbs to fend off infection rendered discussion almost impossible.

Gradually, though, he was able to discover that they have arrived here from a far-off city called Roma, where they have been busily administering care and assistance to victims of a dreadful plague.  They commandeered a hot air balloon, in order to offer their particular skills to the people of our country, in this time of need.

Naturally, Henry was keen to inspect their transport, but it seems it has been appropriated by the fourth member of their medical team – one Marco by name – who has travelled on in it to the United States, where he has been hired to provide private medical services.

We could hardly leave the good doctors out in the rain, so they have joined our band of residents.

Certainly they are being most attentive to everyone’s health, although their methods seem to differ quite markedly from those we are used to.  We can’t quite understand why, for example, they need to check Sally and Lucy’s temperatures quite so often, nor why they need the ladies to strip down to their underwear in order for this to be done.  However I’m pleased to report that we are all very healthy at present, and hope that you are as well.

 

The Backgammon Garden

How can we make amends for our long silence, dear Reader?

A story left unfinished, long months of isolation in our individual shielding boxes, deliveries grinding to a halt and all trade shows and fairs cancelled.  Not the best of times for the Steampunk Dolls House or Steampunk-Shrunk, or, indeed, for our loyal band of followers.

Mrs S was occupied for much of the time producing PPE for local care homes and educating her grandchildren via something called video messaging.  (Their desperation to return to school in the autumn attests to the limited success of that venture…)

To say we felt neglected is the greatest of understatements.   And has normality returned?  Certainly not.  The tiny local Post Office has opened its doors again and – for those customers willing to wait days, weeks or sometimes months – a few items have been fitfully edging towards their destinations.  The Magpie Vintage and Curiosities shop has reopened in Midsomer Norton and at least Mrs S now occasionally visits the workshop.

Her project for the last few weeks has been the long-forgotten Backgammon Garden.  It was almost completed several years ago, but a leaning orangery and broken lawnmower meant that it lay forgotten while other tasks took precedence.  Finally, she opened the vintage box once more and shook her head sadly.

“I think I can fix Draig, Penelope,” she told me.  “The blades just need to be remounted.”  (Draig, for those who may be wondering, is the metal dragon lawnmower who patrols the garden, keeping it neat.)  “The pond will be fine with a bit of adjustment to the fountain.  The standpipe needs a touch of distressing to get the patina right, but what can we do with that orangery?”

The orangery was her pride and joy when she first made it.  It was intricately constructed from clear acrylic sheet and ingeniously folded flat to allow the backgammon box to be closed.  Unfortunately, it didn’t spring back into position when the box was reopened, but drooped at around 45° unless one of us went and stood against it.

I thought long and hard, until a solution came to me.  “We need some tall clipped orange trees in heavy pots,” I suggested.  “They can be wedged into either side of the structure to hold it up when the garden is open and removed and laid flat when we wish to close it.”

“Brilliant!” cried Mrs S.  “An excellent plan.”

A selection of bamboo skewers, polystyrene balls, greenery intended for model railways, mock oranges and epoxy putty was assembled, together with various paints and glues, and at last the clipped orange trees were ready.   Slightly unconventional, perhaps, but maybe it isn’t the only outbuilding that is held up by its trees.

You can also see Draig, here in the foreground, restored to his original splendour.

I’m very much enjoying wandering through the grounds and communing with Octavia – my very affectionate pet – who resides in the pond.

I have no idea what will happen to the garden.  Mrs S doesn’t seem inclined to list it in the SteampunkDollsHouse, and keeps muttering about how it needs to go to the ‘right home’.  I shall simply continue to enjoy it while it’s here.

As for the Etsy shop, a cluster of recent sales is encouraging us to hope that normal life will soon resume.

A Tall Dark Handsome Stranger

We get all manner of diminutive characters appearing at the gates of Steampunk-Shrunk Towers.  One never knows who will appear next.  So I wasn’t surprised when a rather lovely young lady in a flowing sage green and dusky pink dress with a silk headscarf and dangling earrings arrived.  Initially she introduced herself as Gladys from Glastonbury, but her professional name is – apparently – Psychic Sabrina.
“I thought of spelling it P-s-a-b-r-i-n-a, but I think that’s a bit much, don’t you?”
Yes, I did.

“So you’ll be wanting somewhere to work, um, Sabrina,” I said.

She nodded gratefully.  “Just a very small consulting room.  I could do with a couple of chairs and a little table, if possible, and maybe somewhere to store these.”
As she spoke, she was unpacking a trunk containing the tools of her trade – a dowsing pendulum, a pack of cards, a large golden teapot (“tea leaf readings, my lovely”), and sure enough a china cup and saucer.

“I was drawn here, you know,” she confided. “The cards told me to come.  They showed me – I mean, I know it sounds a little clichéd, but it was so clear – that I’d meet a gentleman here who would be, well, significant in my life.  Tall, dark haired, very good looking.”

I thought about our few remaining gentlemen.  Most had left for America last month.  George Entwistle has almost no hair and can only lay claim to being the 12th scale equivalent of 5ft 9 by wearing his top hat everywhere he goes.   Hugo is certainly a distinguished-looking chap and may have been dark haired once, but he’s been grey for many a year.  That only left oil-smeared Henry and his brother…

“Charles,”  I called,  “Could you give me a hand making a set of shelves for a little room I’m putting together?  A stack of about three, to hang on the wall?  A nice grungy but feminine paint or paper finish, please.”

Charles went to work at once, while I set about covering an old room box with some rather beautiful floral papers and painting oddments of furniture in a mix of brown, anthracite and bronze.

Psychic Sabrina, meanwhile, remained strangely unaware of what was going on around her as she unpacked crystals, a ouija board and a set of tarot cards, lovingly wrapped in a dark silk cloth.  Next came various candles and a bottle of dried berries (“Rowan, for protection, dearie”).  I hoped the shelves would be large enough.

The next day all was ready for Sabrina to move in.  She was delighted with the room and spent some time putting up posters and charts, then began stacking her shelves and arranging the furniture.

It was only natural that Charles would drop by to check on his handiwork and to introduce himself to our latest resident.  He came upon the lady as she was deeply engrossed in a tea leaf reading and his gasp was audible.

Sabrina finally pulled herself out of her state of deep concentration to find him standing there.  She’s a professional, I’ll give her that.  There was the tiniest flicker of recognition in her eyes, as she realised that this was the stranger she had come to meet, but she quickly regained her composure and greeted him with a friendly smile.

“Hello, lovely.  Have you come to have a reading?”

I’ve never seen Charles lost for words before.  His mouth opened and closed a few times before he could trust himself to speak.

“Ahem, well, I actually came to check whether the shelves were suitable for your needs, madam.  A-a reading, you say?  Are you some sort of a fortune teller or something?  Never dabbled in such things before, but…  Well, it couldn’t hurt, could it?”

Sabrina was clearly used to putting anxious customers at their ease.  “Oh, so you’re the gentleman who built these splendid shelves.  Why, they are just perfect for my equipment, thank you.  What a craftsman you are!  Yes, I can tell you about yourself, point you in the direction of the best paths to take for a happy and successful future and answer any questions you have.  Shall we begin with a palm reading?  You just come and take a seat.  I’d like to give you a reading as payment for your hard work on my room.”

Charles nodded meekly and sat down.  He answered Psychic Sabrina’s questions – his name, his circumstances – without once taking his eyes from her face.  She smiled and nodded, studying him just as intently.
“Let’s begin with your right hand, then” she cooed, finally. “Just hold it out for me.  Are you happy for me to hold it?”

“Oh yes, certainly,” Charles replied, a little too eagerly.

Me, I’m no clairvoyant, but I think the writing is on the wall as far as these two are concerned.

 

 

 

Letter From America

The shimmering airship positively purred as it landed in the grounds of Steampunk-Shrunk Towers. Airship, Floating Islands, Sails, Castle

Charles and Henry – the resident tinkers – were almost tripping over one another to reach it first and see it at close quarters.

With a faint hiss of air from a piston somewhere, a ladder descended and a young lady who (Henry later remarked) shimmered almost as beautifully as her ship, climbed down.

She laughed at their expressions and said, “Well, I reckon y’all must be Mister Charles and Mister Henry, from what I’ve heard.”

The brothers looked – if possible – even more astonished.  It was Charles who remembered his manners first.
“Charles Fortescue at your service, Madame,” he said, “And may I introduce my brother Henry?  To what do we owe this honour?”

“Delighted to meet you both, I’m sure,” the pilot smiled. “My name is Leticia. We have a mutual friend, gentlemen – a charming young man called Jasper Coggleford.  He told me that if I flew Bluejay here it would be you who came out to take a closer look.”

“Little Jasper?” spluttered Henry.  “Jeremiah’s boy?  But how…?”

“Jasper and his father have recently moved to my neighbourhood,”  Leticia explained.  “We struck up a conversation and when I mentioned that I was about to fly across to the West of England, Jasper was most insistent that I should come and make your acquaintance.  He said your eyes would pop out of your heads when you saw Bluejay!  Oh, and he also asked me to hand deliver this letter to you.”

To be honest, the Fortescues were so enchanted with both the airship and its pilot, that it was only several hours after Leticia had finally declined any more tea and biscuits and reluctantly headed off to her appointment in Bristol that Charles remembered Jasper’s envelope.  With a pang of guilt, they sat down to read his letter.

Dear Mister Charles and Mister Henry,

I hope you like Miss Leticia and her airship.  I bet you will!

Me and Pa are nicely settled in at our new home in America.  So are Mr Augustus and Mr Bjørn.  The people here are real nice, as they say around here.

There is one problem, though.  It seems part of our work over here involves battling with a Kraken or two.  Pa is being ever so brave, but I can tell he’s nervous and I am terrified.  I mean, we have some woodworking tools, but what we need are proper weapons.  I don’t know anyone as good as you gents at inventing and tinkering, so I thought maybe you could have a try at making some monster-maiming gizmos.

Miss Leticia is coming back at the end of the month, so if you had anything prepared by then, I know she’d be happy to pick it up.

I know you won’t let us down.

Please say hi to everyone there.

Kindest regards,

Jasper Coggleford

“Hi?” muttered Charles.  “The boy is certainly settling in over there.”

“Yes, yes, but the weapons!” exclaimed Henry.  “They need our help.  Let’s make a start at once!”

There was a marked reluctance on Charles’ part, Henry noticed.  He’d rummaged around and found some swords in an attic, so had set about making armoured leather scabbards.  However he spent rather too long admiring himself in the mirror, whilst brandishing one sword after another and shouting things like, “Have at ye!” and “Take that, vile sea dog!”

“Swords!” grumbled Henry.  “You might slice off a leg or two, but the mouth will still be coming at you.  We need something more, ah, mechanical.  Something to blow the creatures to kingdom come.”

He stood for most of the first day surrounded by what you or I might think of as junk, carefully trying out different combinations and attachments.  By the end of the third day there was a veritable arsenal surrounding him.

“Is that one of Mrs S’s Christmas tree baubles?” asked Charles, suspiciously eyeing the end of one of the largest guns.

“That’s tinkering for you,” was all Henry would reply.

“And that thing with the rotary saw -”

“The Sawful. Yes, isn’t she a beauty?”

“Try walking around with that dangling from your shoulder and you’ll slice your own leg off!” Charles snorted.  “Hand it over – carefully, man.  I’ll make it a protective carrying case.”

“Then they’ll need small pistols,” mused Henry.  “They won’t be able to carry these things about all the time.  Young Jasper probably couldn’t even lift one.”

Charles didn’t speak.
Henry looked long and hard at his brother. “You don’t like weapons much, do you, old boy?”

Charles shrugged. “Not a great fan, if I’m honest,” he said quietly.  “I mean the swords are fine, man-to-man combat, fair enough.  But blasting some dumb creature out of existence with one of those – things…  Hardly cricket, is it?”

Henry grinned.  He clapped his brother gently on the back and nodded.  “I do see your point.  The thing is, I don’t think monsters play by MCC Laws.  How would we feel if we heard little Jasper had had his head torn off by some ravaging beast?  We need to give the poor lad a sporting chance.  Suppose you work on making some belts and holsters, if I work out how to make the pistols?”

“Thanks, old chap.  Appreciate it,” nodded Charles and he headed off to find some more leather.

And when everything was finished and safely packaged, ready for its long journey over the ocean, Charles had one final item prepared – a peacock blue pistol with matching holster as a gift for the pilot of the Bluejay,  because, as Charles explained, you just never know when you might need to protect yourself against an attack from some dreadful creature of the skies.

 

The Black Door

It’s possible that the ancient black wooden door at the front of Steampunk-Shrunk Towers is as old as the building itself.  Certainly there is a huge iron key that looks to be many centuries old.

What comings and goings that door must have seen.  And certainly there have been plenty in the present month.

Just imagine our amazement when the infamous Dr Oskar Kopp and his ‘enhanced’ assistant Bjørn arrived.  They had left us several years ago to accompany a reknowned storyteller and share their tales with her audiences.  Now, it seems, the good lady is moving to another continent and asked whether she could return these gentlemen and their laboratory to us.

If you are unfamiliar with their story, you could go to this link and its successor and read about them.

The doctor, we noticed, looked somewhat older and perhaps slightly frail.  Bjørn, on the other hand, appears to be thriving with his mechanically enhanced brain and strong clockwork heart.  We look forward to hearing about his research into alchemy, when Dr Kopp is out of earshot.

However there have also been some departures.

Augustus Robottom has clearly become disillusioned with the little robots he has been creating.  He grabbed a copy of The Time Traveller’s Companion and announced that he was relocating to Alabama.

“But what about these small, er, devices of yours?”  Mrs S enquired.

“Confound the things!” he said gruffly.  “I suggest sending them over to the Magpie.  I think they would fit in well there.”

“Ah yes.  Excellent idea,” agreed Mrs S, and she began packing them up to take to the rather wonderful Vintage and Curiosities shop she supplies in Midsomer Norton.

The very next day, Mr Coggleford the furniture restorer and young Jasper, his son and apprentice, told us that they intended to follow in Gus’s footsteps and would be taking one of the time machines as well as one of their finest cabinets with them.

All three will be sorely missed here, but we applaud their ambition and hope that their life in the New World will be most successful.

Now we hear rumours that more ladies and gentlemen will be joining us to once again swell the ranks of Steampunk-Shrunk Towers’ inhabitants.  Today, though, with storms raging outside, the massive black door remains firmly shut.

 

Professor Erazmus’s Gifts

For sale at the SteampunkDollsHouseHigh in one of the attic rooms of the famed Steampunk-Shrunk Towers, Professor Erazmus keeps himself very much to himself.  This is partly because he prefers his own company, but mostly because he does not wish anyone to interfere with his Scrying Machine – a contraption of such sophistication and complexity that its clockwork mechanisms are built into the very walls of the building.

With this astonishing device, the professor is able to peer into the homes and lives of any of his acquaintances and – more especially – those of his many wards.  These young people have now left the safety of Steampunk-Shrunk Towers and moved on to make new lives for themselves in all corners of this world and a few others.

However Erazmus still keeps a keen, fatherly eye on each of them and uses his machine to check that all is well in their new homes.

At the approach of the festive season, the professor begins to prowl around the many workshops, inventing rooms and creative corners of Steampunk-Shrunk Towers in search of the perfect gifts for these much-loved young people to whom he has been guardian for so long.  It is with great care and delight that he selects the perfect gift for each of them.

Of course, because of the clever construction of the scrying machine, Erazmus has the added pleasure of being able to watch the reactions of his wards as they open their parcels, no matter how far away they are now living.

Here is Ruby, who moved away long ago.  For her the Professor has chosen one of these delicate holographic scrying mirrors.

He hopes that this will encourage her to keep in touch and let him know what she is up to these days, but he’s not sure that his plan will succeed.

 

 

 

a young showmanThis is young Rufus, who moved away to begin a career as an inventor and travelling showman and was a great favourite of Erazmus’s.

To this enterprising young man, Professor Erasmus has chosen to give this time machine, as soon as it’s finished.

 

Milly, the steampunk housekeeper robotYoung Henry, here, travelled to the East Coast of the United States some time ago and promptly changed his name.

The professor has decided to send him a robot to assist with the routine jobs involved in working the time machine.

 

Lost in a bookLittle Molly has, he knows, gone to an excellent new home in North Wales.  However he has decided to send her some more books, as she can never have enough.

 

 

 

 

 

The content of this post is now on sale in miniature book format in the SteampunkDollsHouse, with even more illustrations.  It can be bought either as a finished book or as a downloadable DIY page, which can be printed out and made up, with full instructions.

The Professor and his Scrying Room are also available there, at this link.

Chestnuts roasting on a Steam-Powered Engine?

Steampunk Christmas?  The words don’t go together too well, do they?

Vague images of a brown and black clad Santa in a filthy coal-fuelled sleigh, hauled by robot reindeer, or a rusty artificial tree made with cogs of diminishing sizes…

on sale at Sheampunk-shrunk stallsNevertheless, we do have our own line in suitably eccentric tree decorations.  The Wild and Wonky Decorations are a splendid mix of beads, coiled wire, charms and curiosities.  The odd vintage watch cog, key or teapot may be thrown in for good measure.

Let no one accuse us of having a bah humbug approach to the festive season.

We were delighted with the number of people (mothers and daughters, mostly) who rushed at our recent stall at the Glastonbury Folk Craft Market, crying, “Oh look at those robots/ time machines/ gadgets!  Dad/Uncle Jim/your brother would love one of those.”

Many an item was purchased to be hidden away for Christmas.

Customers also seem to love our tiny items – amulets, potion bottles, scrying mirrors, miniature wax candles and so forth to use as cracker gifts or stocking fillers.

Last but by no means least are our tiny 12th scale books.  All were written in house and each has a full text and coloured cover.  Several are also lavishly illustrated.  There are steampunk stories, a catalogue of Robottom’s robots, a time-traveller’s companion, as well as books of spells, charms and potions.  If you’ve left it too late to have them posted, many are also available in Do-It-Yourself format as instant printable downloads.  All you (or the recipients) need is a printer, a glue stick and a pair of scissors or craft knife.  Full instructions are provided.

Browse the Steampunk Dolls House for all titles available and if you like a bargain, do check the very special price on our DIY book bundle, with a selection of 5 books for less than £1 each.

One customer bought a bunch of these to hand around the dinner table instead of Christmas crackers, so that all her guests could make and go home with their own miniature book.  All titles are suitable for children as well as adults.

Of course there is the usual range of Steampunk figures, furniture, time machines, watch cog jewellery and far more besides at our etsy shop, but please order early, as we have much travelling to do in December.

Festive greetings to all our kind followers and customers.

Molly Moving On

There was the tiniest tap on my workshop door.

“Hello Molly.  Come on in.  Everything OK?”

Molly blushed and did that little bob curtsey thing she does.  “I’m so sorry to bother you, Mrs Steampunkle, ma’am.  I wouldn’t normally.  It’s just that this is something rather important ma’am.”

“Molly you’re welcome anytime. So what is this important thing?”

Lost in a bookShe rummaged in her pocket and brought out a rather crumpled envelope. To my surprise, her eyes filled with tears.
“Ma’am, you’ve been so good and kind to me,” she blurted out. “You gave me my first job, and it’s such a good job, too – reading books in the Literary Emporium you built especially for me, and showing the customers how lovely all the books are… And they are lovely too. I really, truly mean that. I just don’t know how to tell you this…”
The poor child began to sob in earnest.

“You want to move on,” I smiled. “Is that it?”

She gasped. “OH! How did you know? I’m so sorry but yes, ma’am. I do. You see I’ve had this letter from her ladyship – Lady Josephine, ma’am, the Lord High Admiral’s wife.  Imagine her writing a real letter to me!  She tells me that she has met Mr Ashley Miller, the famous author of that wonderful book about Brasston and that he is going to accompany them on their visit to that great city, in the dirigible.  But, oh!  Here is the amazing part, ma’am – she says that as it was me, or is it I?  As I was the person who first discovered and showed her the book, they’d like me to go with them on the journey.  I’m just so happy and proud, ma’am, I could burst.  Imagine an ordinary little girl like me taking a ride in the Lord High Admiral’s craft!  And I’ll get to see Lady Josephine again – she was always so kind to me, ma’am.  AND I’ll get to meet Mr Ashley Miller in person!  Oh and I’ll get to visit the amazing, cosmopolitan city of Brasston!
The outside view“But that means, ma’am, that I’ll have to leave you and the Emporium, and whatever will you do, ma’am, to get the visitors to come and read the books if I’m not there to encourage them?”

It would have been quite wrong to laugh, despite the comical appearance of this agitated child – lauging one minute and weeping the next.  I did my best to mop up her tears and assured her that she must of course go on the journey to visit Lady Josephine and accompany her on the expedition to Brasston.

“We could ask young Alice to take over your job in the bookshop,”  I suggested.  “She is a very keen reader.”

The inside viewMolly clapped her hands in delight and agreed that this was a splendid idea.  I then told her I’d found her ladyship’s partly written journal in a dusty corner of Steampunk-Shrunk Towers and asked Molly if she would kindly take it with her, so that Josephine could continue to keep a record of her adventures.

“Oh yes, ma’am, of course I will.  She will be so pleased to have it back.  And if you would be so kind, might I also take one of our blank notebook and pencil sets for Mr Ashley Miller, ma’am?  Being a famous author, I’m sure he would want to keep a record of the journey for himself.”

“Molly, that is an excellent idea.  Pop down to the Emporium and choose one for him, then we must help you to pack.”

There followed many tearful ‘thank yous’, interspersed with at least a dozen more ‘ma’ams’.  I am happy to say, though, that Molly set off on her long journey North this morning and will soon be reunited with the Admiral and his lovely wife, and all of us here wish them a most splendid adventure together.

 

More information on Ashley Miller’s Lego-Steampunk fusion book Brasston can be found at this link.

Molly’s Literary Emporium will continue to sell books, both at Steampunk-Shrunk stalls and in our Etsy shop at this link.

A Visit to Brasston, Chapter 3

This is all becoming a rather intriguing co-production…

Some long-standing readers of our little blog may recall a post a while ago in which some of the residents of Steampunk-Shrunk Towers discovered a large book about a steampunk city constructed of Lego bricks.  Jan Miller – the author’s mother – who shares our fascination with steampunk and all things miniature, acquired some of the characters who appeared in the original story and then wrote a sequel as a guest blog.  You can read the story so far at this link.

I’m most happy to say that she has now penned a further intriguing chapter in this saga, which I include below.

A visit to Brasston  Chapter 3

Lady Josephine was just taking afternoon tea in the Conservatory when a blinding flash of light and a loud whirring noise made her jump to her feet, knocking over pots and tea things. There materialised in front of her Mr. Ashley G. K. Miller in a strange contraption with whizzing disc and coloured lights. As it came to a halt he called out, ‘Phew, that was a little hairy!’

‘My dear Mr. Miller!’ exclaimed Josephine ‘What a surprise! – how did you get here?’

‘This is my new Time Machine,’ Ashley explained.  ‘ Following the ideas of the esteemed author, Mr. H.G. Wells. I have experimented with it only once before.’

‘Good Gracious! You mean you have travelled through time?!’

‘ Not exactly on this occasion.’  Ashley climbed stiffly out of the chair squashed behind the driving mechanism. ‘No, I did experiment with that last week, but it was a bit weird – I ended up down a rabbit hole with some very strange characters like an hallucinating caterpillar and a mad hatter.  But talking to them and a little girl called Alice, also from the Larger World, I was interested in her experience of changing size in order to be there. As you know, I am from the Larger World, where I wrote my original Traveller’s Guidebook to Brasston. When you and your friends asked for my help in visiting that extraordinary city, I hit upon the idea of trying to use the machine to shrink myself to your size so that we can all go on this trip to Brasston together.’

‘It seems to have worked- and here…’ Ashley rummaged behind the seat, ‘should be a miniaturised version of that very guidebook for you!’

‘Oh thank you!’ exclaimed Josephine. ‘That will make it a lot easier for us to use, and I was wondering how we were going to get the original guidebook inside our Dirigible.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Will you be able to return to your own size when you go home, however?’

‘Well I did when I got out of the rabbit hole – but I’m not quite sure how I did it!’ mused Ashley.

‘Oh dear, you need to write everything down exactly how you did it to get here, before you forget – would you like to join me for tea while you do that?’

‘What an excellent idea’ agreed Ashley, rummaging for his reduced sized notebook, but then realising he had forgotten the pen to match the size to which he had now shrunk. But Lady Josephine furnished the right size of pen.

‘So do you think the Time Machine adapts to the size of the world into which youtravel?’ she asked.

‘Yes, it seems to adapt to whatever the ambient conditions are,’ replied Ashley.

‘How extraordinary!’

‘Yes, I’m just beginning to explore the possibilities.  But I’m not sure if this will help us when we get to Brasston – they are even smaller than you, being Lego! However, my Time Machine, unfortunately, can only take one person at a time.’

‘Oh! How did you find out about this extraordinary Lego city of Brasston?’

‘Well I was reading the esteemed author, Jonathan Swift, about Gulliver’s Travels, and contacting him through my Time Machine, I found he had discovered this place, as well as Lilliput.’

‘Good Gracious! Do you think they will see us as undesirable giant aliens and pin us to the ground also?!’

‘I hope not, but nothing is achieved by being afraid!’

 

We hope you enjoyed that and are looking forward – as we are – to the next instalment.

The steampunk figures and time machine were made by Steampunk-Shrunk and similar items are available at our etsy shop at this link.  Miniature versions of the Brasston book, as featured in this story, are available to order from this site.  Please use the contact form on the home page.

Ashley Miller’s delightful Brasston book can be purchased in a ‘Larger World’ (full)size version from the Brasston Facebook page by clicking here. It would make a thoughtful gift for anyone, including children, interested in Lego and/or steampunk.