Shrink Me! A Miniaturist Makes a House Call.

As we made our way to the kitchen, I did enjoy a final wistful glance of the dining room with its elaborate stucco ceiling for the recreation of one for Lord B’s abode had resulted in much heartbreak and insomnia during one painful month from inception to completion... However, as we entered the kitchen, I had the strangest sense of déjà vu and as I looked around at the familiar sight of the huge fire with spit roast and bread oven, I felt as if I had shrunk and had wandered into the basement kitchen of Lord B’s abode, albeit in 12th scale!

Boatswain Soaks Up the Warmth as Tee Makes Tea…

Yes, I am still here and I can guess what thought is uppermost in your mind right now as you read this! For you're probably thinking that I have forgotten all about Number 13 Piccadilly Terrace and have shaken the dust of the year 1815 from the soles of my feet as Lord B had hoped to when he sailed from our shores in the Spring of 1816 to a life of exile and even greater notoriety...