After the Seattle Miniature Show

The Seattle Miniature Show has come and gone, and the workshop feels a little quieter this week. After weeks of preparation, careful packing, and countless last-minute details, the houses have either returned home with me—or begun a new chapter with someone else.

Three houses found new homes during the show, and each one left for a different reason, carrying a different story.

The Artply Tennyson completed its transformation after months of careful restoration. From repairing weathered wood to furnishing each room, it had become one of those projects that quietly earns a place in your heart.

Cedarwood Manor carried a different kind of history. Long before it arrived in my workshop, someone had imagined something beyond the original plans, transforming it into a remarkable custom home through thoughtful modifications. Preparing it for the show felt less like changing a house and more like honoring the creativity of the builder who came before me.

Then there was the RGT Hawthorne. Unlike the others, its story wasn't finished. The exterior renovation was complete, but the interior was still waiting for someone to imagine what came next. I loved the idea that its new owner would become part of the creative process, shaping the rooms and making the house uniquely their own from the inside out.

Watching each house leave with its new owner is always bittersweet. For months, they sit on my dining room table, becoming part of my daily routine. I notice every tiny improvement, every challenge, every design decision. Then, almost unexpectedly, it's time to let them go. That's exactly as it should be.

These houses were never meant to stay with me forever.

One of the greatest joys of the weekend wasn't watching people admire the craftsmanship. It was watching them connect with the stories. Some visitors were drawn to the architecture. Others immediately looked through the windows to discover what was happening inside. Some wanted to know the history of a particular house, while others shared memories of the dollhouse they had as a child—or the one they always wished they had owned. Those conversations reminded me that dollhouses have a remarkable way of opening doors to much bigger stories.

The Houseworks Victorian and the Dura-Craft Tudor returned home with me after the show, and I'm looking forward to continuing their journey. Their stories are still unfolding, and there is more work to do before they're ready for their own next chapters.

As I unpacked the remaining houses and settled back into my dining room workshop, I found myself thinking less about what had sold and more about the people I met throughout the weekend.

The houses may have been the reason we started talking. The stories are what we'll remember. And that's what I'll carry with me as I begin the next restoration.