{all work and no play... yet}

This is the house that Justin built.

Perhaps you remember it as the giant pile of wood that I showed you in September? (Inspired by a little playhouse we saw while on holiday in Denmark) Well, that's almost exactly what it still was until last weekend. Almost all this -- walls, studs, screws, paint -- in three days. I keep having to pop out into the garden and touch it, just to make sure it's really, really real.

There's still plenty more to do -- several more coats of paint on the inside, and a whole roof to go -- and then the proper fun can begin. Curtains! Pictures! Little window boxes full of bright little flowers! Oh, and Tilly will probably enjoy it a bit, too.

Our final deadline is the 29th of June -- Tilly's second birthday, when hopefully a little crowd of friends will help her warm her new home with apple-juice toasts and a little summer picnic!

{on imagination, and tiny kitchens}

This is not a post about amazing transformations. Your eyes will not pop. Your jaw will not drop. You might find yourself asking just what you're supposed to be looking at (I mean, apart from the cute baby). 

That's okay.

What I can show you is a broken old cabinet becoming a pint-size kitchen, while still looking pretty much like a broken old cabinet. 

But this post isn't really about kitchens. I've seen so many clever and beautiful little play kitchens that nothing really amazes me anymore. Oh, it has a fully-functioning stove that you built from tissue-paper and pipe-cleaners? What, it only cost you $74, and took sixty hours to make? That's nice.

This post is about imagination. 

Not my imagination; my big clomping parent imagination. That's what I'd been caught up in. Imagining what I could build, how I could have the most fun decorating it and all the cool features I'd like to add. It'll be all white with grey details -- modern, Scandinavian, she'll love it. No, I'll love it. 

Instead, we went with a bare little kitchen that I hope will let Tilly's imagination run wild. Our cooling rack, upside down, jammed where the drawer used to be. Wooden pegs and double-sided tape to hold up her apron. An Ovaltine pot for utensils. And... done. A zero-budget kitchen, built in ten minutes.

If she wants the counter to be a stove, she'll put a pan there. If she wants it to be a sink, a bowl. If, in a week or two she wants to add knobs and burners, we'll draw some on, or cut some out of felt. The point is, the designing is fun. And now she can be a part of that fun. 

I promise, this is not a post that is against fancy play-kitchens. I just about die with envy whenever we get to play with a beautiful shiny little stove, and raid a well-stocked mini-pantry. Aw, the tiny pizza. Aw, the tiny utensils. This post is against sitting around feeling defeated that you'll never make anything as good as the things you've seen online, though. 

And maybe that's something I need to remember about more than just play kitchens. We don't need to be the best of the best, the most original, the most creative. Sometimes, it's enough to make do. Sometimes, it's okay to be in progress, and let your unfinished edges show.

{still in progress: play kitchen}

I have not done any work at all on the broken-down cabinet that is to be Tilly's play kitchen. But I have found a second abandoned bit of furniture -- a bedside table with a broken drawer -- which is also fair game for a bit of sprucing up. (Yes, we're turning into a home for stray cupboards. If any more show up, I'll start adopting them out...) 

As there's nothing covering the space below the drawer, it could be the perfect spot to hang a colourful curtain, a la the kitchens that inspired me.

Clearly, we still have time before she's even interested in wooden cookery; one of Tilly's friends just got the most beautiful wooden kitchen for her birthday, and I watched today as Tilly ran straight past it to try to grab a chewed-up bit of carrot off the floor. And then tried to eat a shoe. Play kitchens are pretty low on her priority list right now, apparently.

In the meantime, I thought I'd share a few of the things that I hope to fill her kitchen with, eventually:



A felt scale, to measure out her pretend flour. What amazing embroidered detailing!



Felt cupcakes, and that adorable felt muffin tray, by umecrafts. I make everything in cupcake form -- banana bread cupcakes, chocolate cake cupcakes, and I've even seen a recipe for macaroni and cheese cupcakes that I desperately want to try -- so I'm sure Tilly would know what to do.



Felt strawberries by KennasFeltForest. Four dollars for three of these beauties seems like awfully good value -- I guess it's the end of picking season!


Felt toaster pattern by GulfCoastCottagePDF. I'm curious if the toastables would go up and down?

Kitchen utensils by bugbitesplayfood. You know, because then I can have my utensils back to cook with!

And, just so that she doesn't forget she's a Texan, this little felt grill by GulfCoastCottagePDF. What do you fancy -- that very well-done T-bone, the so-rare-it's-still-oinking hotdog, or the burger that's one-quarter meat and three-quarters salad? (I call the burger.)