You know how sometimes it seems like every estate sale has a room full of Christmas stuff? At this one, the Christmas room also had a baby grand piano, a chandelier, and woodwork that made me swoon. There was also an Easter room, but it wasn't nearly as fancy.
I wish I'd taken more pictures, but I was completely overwhelmed by how amazing the house was and I was trying to find which of the five or six bedrooms the dollhouses might be in.
I found them and had to work very, very hard to leave the 1950s metal one behind. (I was looking for furniture for the houses I already own, but it was all sold before I got there.)
The wooden one was easy to resist, but I've been wanting a dollhouse like this since I was a kid and my younger sister got a pretty lithographed one from the thrift shop and I was "stuck" with the one Grandpa and Grandma had built me. Now, I see the error of my childhood ways, but back then hers was prettier than mine and had more furniture.
This is the best picture I could get of the interior.
What overwhelmed me about this sale, beyond how wonderful the house was, was how happy the place felt. Whoever lived there had amazing taste in furniture, more clothing than I would've thought possible, and it just seemed like she must've enjoyed herself an awful lot.
So many of the estate sales around here have a dismal vibe. That place with the black walls and hospital bed comes immediately to mind. They're time capsule houses, but not in a good way. This sale was their complete opposite.