Shoe Repair Shop: I found the tiny shoe repair shop tucked away in an old adobe building on Alameda; it smelled of leather and pungent dye and I was reminded of my grandfather's mule harnesses. From a curtained doorway at the back of the room came the sounds of ranchero music on the radio. " Be with you un momento, Miss," the man said from the workbench that he straddled. Built somewhat like a rocking horse, it had a patina that came from time.

The shoe man had a bushy white mustache that stood out from his wrinkled dark skin, and little half glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He wore a leather apron and some kind of protective leather tip on his thumb. "Just a few more stitches" he said as he patted the boot top that was snugged on the metal last. "Sientese, por favor."

I sat down in an old wooden chair with curved arms and surveyed the room. The wall across from me was lined with shelves that were filled with every describable type of shoe. Their tags hung helter-skelter, and they all looked well used. Since this is El Paso, there were many boots; some of their tops leaned one way, some another. Most were plain, workmanlike; others had ornate stitching and one luggage-color pair had bright leather appliques of stars in red. All were well-polished, if somewhat dusty.

In the small glass counter were round tin boxes of wax, polish, and saddle soap, bottles of mink oil and dye, shoe laces, shoe horns and cards showing metal taps and different replacement heels. He also had a stack of pale blue flannel polishing cloths, cut with pinking shears, various styles of brushes, including wire ones for suede (I bought one and still have it) and a fancy wooden box to hold shoe polishing supplies. It had a last-type form on top where one could place his foot while applying polish. I later went back and bought the box for my husband for his birthday; he still has it, too.

Past the shelves on the left side side wall leading to the curtained doorway was a poster advertising a long-concluded bullfight in Juarez, another with one of those Vargas girls from the 40's holding a frosty bottle of Coca Cola next to her cheek. On the wall at the back of the room an ancient clouded mirror darkened around the edges leaned out from its wire hanger. Beside it was a hand-lettered sign in ornate script: Custom Made Boots.

A little cash box sat open on a battered wooden table under a dusty window on the other wall, along with some papers stuck on a metal spike, a Mexican pottery mug with pens and pencils, a half-full green glass Coke bottle and a brown paper lunch bag with a spot of grease on the side. One of those old black dial telephones sat atop a telephone book. Another chair similar to the one I sat in was pushed under the table. On the window sill he had taped newspaper clippings, yellowed with age and curling around the edges.

Wanna in El Paso

Plexiglas and room boxes: I use Plexiglas on the top and front of my Southwest room boxes.  I make a 1/8" rabbet around the top of the box so that the Plexiglas sits flush with the top of the box and I make a 1/8" groove in the front of the floor and a 1/4" groove in the top cross piece of the box.  I have my glazier cut the front piece 1/4" higher than the front opening dimension.    I glue two wood "buttons" on the lower left and right corners of the Plexiglas and insert it into the front of the box, putting the top in first and then sliding it down into the bottom groove.  Check out the picture of my room box on my web site, (click on the URL below), for an example of what I am talking about.  I don't have the glass installed in these pics but you can get the idea. http://TaosSunMiniatures.com

Spencer

Barber shop: would have had at least one good leather chair for the customer to get a hair cut in and several wooden one for customers to wait. Their would be long straight edge razors, scissors, combs, shaving brush and mug. Maybe have a customer with a hot towel around his face to soften the beard before a shave. Mustache wax: maybe the owner could have a long mustache. Of course, men reading the newspaper while they waited, maybe some gossip going on or maybe a barber shop group practicing their singing while they waited. In Victorian times the shop would be ornate.

Darlene / Somerset NJ

Pressed Wood: Have been reading some of the comments about pressed wood - are they referring to MDF?  We also call it supawood. I am building my house (own design, not a kit) from this stuff & I think its great.   Painting the walls is much simpler as there is no wood grain to fill up & prime.  There is no right and wrong side as in masonite and the cut edges are as smooth as the surfaces - they don't require filling like plywood.  Also it is not as inclined to warp as much as plywood. However, it can be quite heavy, (maybe an advantage) and because of the glue in it, it blunts jigsaw blades quite quickly.   But even with a blunt blade, it doesn't "rip" the wood and requires only minimal sanding along the cut edges. The only furniture I would make from MDF would be fully upholstered like sofas or painted like cupboards.

Sharon, (South Africa)

Barber shop: Don't forget the red and white candy twist barber's pole outside, and inside the leather strop for sharpening the razors. Also the men had some type of grease or liniment for their hair.

Are you adding a trap door for the victims??? And a pie shop planned for next door?

Pauline

Rustic floor ideas: Early cabins often had dirt floors.   The dirt would get pounded down pretty hard over time, and the floor could be swept.  Slightly more affluent might be rough boards laid atop the dirt or on poles.  Knots and gaps might give this floor character.  Nicer cabins would have smoother boards well fastened down. You could just say your cabin was built "chinkless"; a technique where each log is gouged out to fit atop the previous one.  They are chinked, but it's hidden between the well-fitted logs.  If you want the chinking to show, how about some heavy thread or string soaked in glue and shoved between the logs.  You could paint or dye the string and let it dry before gluing.

Lee Steiconi

Rustic floors for log cabins.   It is little known that many log cabins had dirt floors covered with (get this!) a layer of animal blood.  The blood from butchering a large animal would be coated on the pounded dirt as if it was paint.   This, amazingly, created a smooth, almost rubbery coating on the dirt that was much easier to sweep and keep clean.   (Obviously it had to be a very thick layer and flies had to be kept away until it was completely dry).    I am not suggesting that anyone open a vein for the sake of realism, but perhaps a maroon (or oxblood) colored paint on a layer of fine dirt would do the trick.  I wonder if the term 'oxblood' as a color comes from this practice.

Evelyn in Canada

Log cabin floor:  you could put paper clay on the floor of your log cabin, after sealing the wood floor, and paint the paper clay brown once it has dried.  Then you have a dirt floor, which would be very in keeping with a rustic log cabin.

Mary in MS

Puncheon floors for cabins: If anyone wants more information on puncheon floors, they are mentioned in one of the "Little House" books by Laura Ingalls Wilder.  I believe it may be Little House on the Prairie, but am not sure. Laura describes in great detail how her Pa built their cabin, including the chimney (mud-and-stick above the stone base) and the puncheon floor, which was logs cut in half and set in the dirt floor round side down. It was smoothed down w/his axe for splinters, but otherwise had no finish. Also describes how he roofed the cabin with lengths of wood. Very interesting--there are drawings of the cabin and outside in the books at well.

Laurie from N. Calif

Marlene Chapman-Ontario