The Benders are back!

If you look up "Benders" on the internet you will find a disposable cup company who are unnaturally excited about the latest technology in insulated paper cups,  a not very good jazz band from Sydney who lasted for two whole years in the 1980's therefore suggesting they weren't very, er, jazzy... and a bunch of Battersea plumbers with a perspicacious take on their company name who drive from leak to leak in bubblegum pink vans.

And best of all, a family (like mine) of serial killers (not like mine) from Kansas called the "Bloody Benders", who owned an inn and a store in the 1800's, and who liked to knock off their paying guests and pop them under the floorboards never to be seen again.

Looking suspiciously like they have been on a "bender" of their own, the Bender tribe arrive at the Mini House,  to be met by the other members of the Bender Family who now inhabit No 1 Heatherside Corner

All this rather puts my own small family of Benders in the shade somewhat.

For those of you who didn't know, once I had started finding my childhood dolls house toys on the internet, I got a wee bit carried away. Not content with purchasing a Mrs Bender, I  went on to buy a Mr Bender, and literally as I was paying for him, my friend Diane spotted a whole family of Benders, exactly as mine had been, and so, you've guessed it, they were reeled in too.

It's more to do with seeing them again after all this time, as I have no real plans to install them in the Mini House (but don't tell them that).

None of them have done anything that I know of, of any note, in the 37 years they have been away. But that is of little or no consequence, as they are back where they belong.

It's good to see them again after all this time, even if they do look a little worse for wear. But that could be said of me these days too, so I can't hold that against them.

And I, at least, did not suffer having my feet repeatedly chewed, nor had my legs gleefully bent the wrong way so many times that eventually the wire popped out of the back of them.

So realistically, I had expected them to bear all the scars of rubber people who had been played with for several decades, by small enthusiastic children who have no concept of the polite way to play with folk smaller than you.

But I have to admit it did come of something of a surprise to find that Tommy and Sally Bender, the smallest members of the family, whom I spent my formative years bending into funny shapes,  now bear an uncanny resemblance to two people I rather admire as an adult, art critic Brian Sewell and comedienne Sandi Toksvig.

Oh God, does this mean that I have finally grown up? I do hope not....

"Sandi" and "Brian" sit on the stoop of the Mini House..... Seriously, Google them and tell me I'm wrong!

Let there be light!

Or:  How to wire a front opening dolls house using its hinges...

I now know what inventor of the light bulb Joseph Swan and his friend William Armstrong felt the day they finished wiring Swan's house in Gateshead up to the new-fangled incandescent filament electric lamp device type-thingy that Swan had made in his shed, and flicked the switch.

The house called Underhill, (which coincidentally was built in the same year as No1 Heatherside Corner) lit up like a Christmas tree and in doing so became the first private house in the whole world to be illuminated by electric light bulbs.

Armstrong was so impressed with his mate's invention that they trotted round to his place, a house called Cragside in Northumberland, on the way to the pub for a celebratory snifter, and installed light bulbs there too. 

Handily, he had also been busy and just happened to have built the world's first hydroelectric power station in his back garden, which was more than up to the job of powering the new lamps in his gallery. 

This week I had a similar scale epiphany, when, mentally drained after several hours of complicated scientific experiment and research, I finally pushed the tiny white plastic plug from the Mini House’s outside porch light, into my lighting strip and watched the minuscule bulb gently come to life like an amorous glow worm’s derriere.

The reason for my delight?  I, the person who can barely wire a plug, and who has the dexterity of someone whose fingers are made of (the now defunct) Porkinson’s Bangers*, and who has no hydroelectricity at my sausagey-fingertips, had just managed to wire up the light, using the Mini House's hinges as conductors. And it only, totally unexpectedly, bloomin' well worked first time!

* By the bye, did you know Porkinson's Bangers were originally created by celebrity photographer Norman Parkinson and were sadly abandoned by the company who owned the rights after his death, following what they called "a sausage portfolio review"?

"I had the mortification one fine morning of finding you on my track and in several particulars ahead of me -- but now I think I have shot ahead of you and yet I feel there is almost an infinity of detail to be wrought out in the large application now awaiting development and that your inventive genius as well as my own will find very ample room for exercise in carrying out this gigantic work that awaits execution."

Joseph Swan. In a letter to Thomas Edison, (who didn't really invent the light bulb) on 24 September 1880.  
Read more: Lighting a revolution

Tutorial

The things you will need to succeed:

Two brass hinges and brass screws, or your existing hinges, sanded on the back to remove any paint. (Hinges and screw fittings must be brass!)

External 12v light fitting, plus lighting strip and transformer

Extra roll of 12v lighting cable

Bradawl

Screwdriver

Point-nosed pliers

Lino cutting tool or craft knife

Ruler

Pen

Strong double sided adhesive tape
Masking or sticky tape

Scissors

Firstly check your light is working before installing it, by plugging it into the lighting strip and connecting to a transformer. If your light is self-adhesive, paint the outer edge of the sticky pad to blend in with the light or outer wall finish.

Use a bradawl or drill to make a small hole to mark the position where your light will sit, and where the wire will go through the front of the house.

Add your hinges, or use the existing ones, to the opening inside edge of the house front. The hinges and screws must be brass, and paint-free where your wires will touch the metal to  give a good contact. The wires go underneath the hinges, so if you are using the existing ones,  remove them and lightly sand any paint off the underside to give a bare metal surface.

NOTE: Each light you require to be wired via this method must have its own set of hinges. 

On the reverse of the opening house front, mark a line from the hole you have made, along the path you wish the light cable to go, towards the hinges. Use a Lino cutting tool or craft knife to cut a shallow groove along the line.

Remove the plug from your light (save the plug for later) then thread the light cable through the hole you have made, from the front. Fix your light in place using the sticky self-adhesive pad or screws supplied, as per the instructions.

Cut a thin strip of strong double sided adhesive tape and run it into the groove you have cut on the reverse of the opening house front, using a blunt point to press it in firmly before removing the backing paper. Press the lighting cable into the groove you have cut, onto the self-adhesive tape strip. This will hold the cable in place while you work. Once you have completed the installation you can simply glue, fill and paint over the tape and cable, to create a smooth surface, thus embedding the cable.

Run the cable along the groove to the hinges. Just before the point where it reaches them, carefully split the end to create two separate covered wires.  Make sure you have enough cable to reach both hinges. Use a cigarette lighter to gently melt the plastic coating off the ends of the wire, or pinch gently and pull, making sure you don't break the actual wires inside.

Twist the ends of the wires together to make one.   Cut the wire ends to the correct length. You want just enough exposed so it will fit neatly under one half of the hinge, without overhanging. (Image shows wire before cutting to correct length)

Loosen the hinge screws and slide the end of one wire underneath each hinge.  Tighten the screws again. Make sure the wire stays under the hinge and doesn't get caught  in screw thread. It must only have contact with one side of the hinge. Use a small strip of sticky or masking tape to hold the wire in place while you work on the other.

Take your spare roll of lighting cable and cut a length long enough to measure from the hinges  to where your lighting strip or sockets will finally be fixed when the project is finished.

Split the ends of the cable (as previously done with the first wire) and again twist the exposed  wires and fix under the opposite side of each hinge, to mirror the first.  Make sure the ends of the  first wires are not touching the ends of the second ones. Hold the cable in place with  small strips of sticky or masking tape.

Suggestion: Run the second cable down the edge of the inside wall of the house to the bottom and underneath the house. If you are lucky enough to have a recess, you can run the cable to the back of the house or to the lighting strip without further need to hide it. If, however, you do not have this option, repeat the part where you cut a small groove with the Lino tool or craft knife and follow the steps to hide the cable in this way.

Once your cable is run to where it will exit the house and join the mains circuit via a lighting strip, or other means, re-attach the plug you removed earlier, to the new cable and test again by plugging it into the lighting strip and transformer.If your light does not illuminate, check that each cable end is securely fastened,  and is not touching anything apart from the under side of your hinges. Check also that the  cable ends are not touching each other and that the underside of the hinges are free from paint or anything else which may cause a break in the circuit.

Once your light is in place and working, run a fine line of wood glue along the entire groove where the cable is sitting, taking care not to get glue on the hinges themselves. You can then use wood filler or similar to smooth over the groove and paint or paper as required.  Finally, make sure your light is secured to the outside of the house and that's all there is to it! Jump for joy!

For another tutorial on the same subject see also: Hard wiring a front opening dolls house by Christine Errico

Mr Bender is on his way!

Good news!

Especially for Mrs Bender, who has been on the edge of her tiny seat ever since her errant rubber hubby was first spotted for sale on the world wide interweb.

After 37 years of being apart, they will finally soon be reunited, as Mr Bender is coming home!

I'm hoping he is slipping himself into a small square of bubble wrap as I type, ready to enter the system as a small packet, large letter, parcel or whatever else the great Royal Mail in its infinite wisdom decides to categorise him as.

Soon he will be braving the rain, wind, snow, and Mount Pleasant Sorting Office (which was built on the site of Coldbath Fields Prison - a fact that rather says it all regarding the state of the UK postal service today)

But human and tiny rubber fingers crossed, the Benders will soon be back together where they belong!

Stop press: Bender Family Update!!

I have had a telegram from my good friend Diane, to tell me that Mr Bender has finally broken cover!!

Mr Bender looking decidedly worried 

about his future

Obviously spurred on by seeing the kids leave home, and his wife's new life - finding herself footloose and fancy free - he has decided to "come out" too.

Loosely disguised with a polka dot tie, a change of shirt, Oxford bags and some fairly heavy pencilled-in eyebrows (he was very fair and didn't have any when I was five years old).  He was spotted by eagle-eyed Diane, looking rather forlorn on eBay.

With two days to go before the auction closes, he may still sadly never arrive at the Mini House and will continue his adventures elsewhere, but it would be lovely to see him back in the fold, and so we have everything crossed here at No 1 Heatherside Corner for his safe return.  And that wasn't referring to his knees, which I promise never to bend at funny angles ever again.

I also remember chewing his little rubber feet first time round, and resolve not to do that either, if he does come home.

I haven't told Mrs Bender yet, that her errant husband has resurfaced and having obviously fallen on similar hard times, is selling himself on the internet.  Just in case we can hold a small rubbery reunion, if I'm lucky enough to win him back.

Making lamp shades? No sweat!

"Can I help you with anything?" The young girl in the chemist asked, after watching me stare at their range of shampoo for fifteen minutes. "Are you looking for something in particular?"

I straightened up and smiled at her. This was going to be a tad awkward. And certainly wasn't going to aid positive public opinion on Care in the Community.

In an earnest tone which I hoped would imply I needed no help,  knew exactly what I was after, and once I had found and purchased it, would go quietly, without the need to involve the police or mental health workers, I said slowly and reassuringly "No, I'm fine thank you."

Though in hindsight the next thing I said was probably a mistake. "I'm looking for lamp shades" I told her cheerfully, treating her to another big grin.

Now, any miniaturist worth their salt would understand.

But 17 year-old trainee pharmacy assistants are a whole different kettle of fish.

She went pale behind her blotchy fake tan, glanced nervously at her colleague, who had up until now been extolling the virtues of ear drops to a customer, and eaves dropping on us at the same time, and scuttled behind the counter, putting a safe distance between her and the raving loon who had been muttering to the Head and Shoulders for the past quarter of an hour.

I shrugged and moved on to the toothpaste aisle. My quest was not yet over.

I was on a mission to find something I could use to make replica Mini House bathroom and bedroom lamp shades. Or the "tractor hub caps" as our builders had rudely referred to them, when renovating our house late last year.

I thought they were rather lovely (lamp shades, not the builders), when I spotted them for sale; two large, dark bronze-coloured metal shades, with a rust finish, both weighing a ton, but looking like the dog's doo-dahs* when they were in place.

*Not literally (Please see Phrases.org for further clarification)

And now I needed to replicate them.

I had already done Sainburys, Tesco's, Waitrose and two local DIY stores with no luck. The chemist was my last bastion of hope.

But I guessed there was no point in trying to explain this to the pharmacist who, alerted by his colleagues, was taking charge of the situation and heading my way.

My light bulb moment!

I sauntered round the hair removal section in a bid to shake him off, knocking over a timely Veet display ("Don't let your Easter Bunnies get Furballs!") in the process.

As I trotted towards the exit, past a poster advertising Hemorrhoid Cream, and a rotating display of hair nets, I finally spotted what I was looking for!

Roll-on deodorants! Lots of them. And all with lids that were the perfect shape and size for our lamp shades! Or at least would be, with a little work.

Thinking he had me cornered, the pharmacist gestured to his staff to ring the boys in blue.

I skipped happily past him, clutching the little stubby bottles and paid for my bounty, grinning again at the young assistant to convince her of my sanity. 

As I emerged blinking into the daylight, armed with enough deodorant to dry up the North Sea, I heard Ms Ear Drops on the phone "Yes officer, talking to the shampoo for ages, and she kept baring her teeth at Kelly".

Some people just don't get it, do they?

The "tractor hub cap" lamp shades in No1 Heatherside Corner

The Mini House version attached to globe light bulbs. The only job left to do is to paint the gold parts white.

The main problem was that the lids were really difficult to saw through in a straight line. Was just as well I had

purchased a few bottles as it took a number of attempts. Then they were sanded, painted and drilled before being

glued to the globe bulb fittings.

Shaken, not staired

It all started one night when Mr PJ was mixing up one of his speciality scalp raising, eyebrow singeing Bloody Mary's. 

I was watching with interest, through a welders mask (which I keep for just such occasions), from the safety of my kitchen high stool, as he sprayed coarse ground black pepper and red hot chilli flakes around the room, like the Devil's confetti. A dash of Dave's Insanity Sauce here. A glug of Worcestershire's finest there. All hammered home with a stick of celery, and a squeeze of lime.

The inspiration for the Mini House stair rods,

our first cocktail parrot served in New Orleans

He's never been the same since we went to New Orleans and discovered that the real McCoy does not consist of one tiny bottle of lukewarm Britvic and a nervous splash of Lea and Perrins.

In the Big Easy, they like their Bloody Mary's red hot, and dangerous. With enough garnish to stock a garden centre.


Mr PJ was especially impressed when they topped it all off with a little pickle parrot, complete with olive eyes, to keep watch over his drink, long after he had stopped being able to focus on it for himself.

He says that if cocktail swilling special agent James Bond had wanted to look really suave, he should have been ordering Bloody Mary's topped off with a stuffed olive parakeet, instead of his usual girly dry Martinis. 

But it appears author Ian Flemming thought otherwise.

And so, it was at the moment my very own, er hem 007, was skewering a couple of Scotch Bonnets to a dill pickle, in an attempt to replicate Polly, that I saw the light! 

I had been struggling to come up with something small and cheap, preferably but not necessarily in metal, that I could use to make stair rods for the Mini House. And here before me, was the perfect answer. 

No, not the boss-eyed vegetable budgie that he was constructing to pop in his aperitif, but the very bones that kept it on its perch. Cocktail sticks! 

Yet again, they have come to the rescue. First for the mini Mini House balcony rails and now the stair rods. And I must say I'm very happy with the results.  

Although Mr PJ will now have to use something else to stir his Bloody Mary's.  But I'm sure if he talks nicely to "Q" they'll find him something....

The finished cocktail stick stair rods

How they were made

Use Tacky Glue to glue glass beads on to each end of a trimmed and sanded cocktail stick, to make finial ends

Crimp covers used in jewellery making are glued in place, to become the stair rod brackets

Sprayed with two coats of Pewter spray paint and then polished with a soft cloth

Glued in place with tiny drops of wood glue and left overnight to dry

Just call me Norman...

I like to rock.

Not in the musical sense of the word. But in a big wooden chair. In the "old lady with a rug over her knees, wearing a badly fitting, frizzy ginger wig, and a lipstick moustache" type of rock.

Slowly, to and fro.  Endlessly, until I doze off or go dizzy.

I owned a tiny rocking chair as a tot.

I used to sit in it and rock backwards and forwards as fast as I could, like a loon, to make it walk across the bedroom floor.

The only reason I don't do that any more is that my rear end is now far too big to squeeze into the seat, so my beloved chair has been donated to someone considerably younger, smaller and more responsible.

And I've upgraded to Rocking Chair II - The Revenge....

Recently, I found a proper adult sized, fiddle-back, beech rocking chair in the same antiques centre which spawned the Mini House. Total Granny-chic! So I bought it.

The big chair and its little Mini House brother - almost an exact replica

Sometimes I like to gently rock in it, and talk to the dog, while watching the world and his wife go by outside our bedroom window.

I find it very therapeutic.

The dog has no feelings either way.

But Mr PJ finds it unnerving.

He says that from the street, looking in, I look like Norman Bates' "mother".

Well, if the wig fits.....

The perfect Mini House version  - from the Dolls House Emporium

"It's not like my mother is a maniac or a raving thing. She just goes a little mad sometimes. We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?"

Norman Bates. Psycho. 1960.