Big Head Maude’s house now has its very own page over here.

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Big Head Maude may not yet have a front door, but she has carolers!

Frida and Agnetha have dropped by to sing holiday songs. Frida and Agnetha must be Scandihoovian, as they are tall, thin, and very blonde. When they are not pretending that it’s winter, they sing folk tunes together at small art galleries and the ritzier tattoo parlors, so their taste in carols runs to songs about ivy, lanterns, and pigs. Being translated from an obscure dialect of Latvian also is not a handicap.

Due to a wet December in Phoenix, much of the remaining work on the house isn’t done, but Maude feels she has to be hospitable. At least she has a tree. Luna is still working on the physics of knocking it over.

Frida attempts to remember the third verse of a pig-herder’s carol in Basque, while Agnetha introduces herself to Maude’s new guitarist, Tasha, who recently moved to Phoenix from Cleveland, where she played in an indie band called The Blood Sausages. Nobody dares mention the awkward fact that Tasha’s head is even bigger than Maude’s.

When Agnetha goes upstairs to use the facilities, she only wonders for a few minutes if it would be wrong to strip off her garments and make use of the washer and dryer. Luna’s beady eyes discourage her.

Meanwhile, Maude has made the connection between having guests and feeding them. While she’s excited about using her new kitchen, what with repainting the bedroom and everything, she hasn’t done much grocery shopping. She could have sworn there was milk in here somewhere… because if there isn’t, how is she to make eggnog?

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An $8 house puzzle kit from Michael’s held irresistible allure. Awkwardly, this house is a completely different scale from the Hipster House, so socializing could be difficult.

Indie musician Big Head Maude is in the early stages of moving into her cottage in Phoenix’s F.Q. Story historic neighborhood. Rehab is not quite finished, as the house needs trim, touch-up paint, and a front door. We also note that:

1. Luminarias are already out, even though it’s only the beginning of December.
2. It was an excellent season for pumpkins.
3. The grass, far from being greener, is extremely dry.

The most important item has arrived: the baby grand piano! (It’s not a Steinway. Like Jamie Cullum, Maude prefers the brighter Yamaha tone.) Her sofa and chair are 1940s reproductions of Victorian pieces, obtained from a little shop over in the Melrose corridor up Seventh Avenue.

Because the cottage is very small (under 550 square feet), it is open plan.

The kitchen space, however, is well-equipped, as Maude likes to cook. She even makes homemade kitty treats for her cat, Luna.

The cottage also has a fine historic ceiling.

Despite limited space, there is room for every convenience, including a washer and dryer. Writing and rehearsing songs can be sweaty work, especially if one gets energetic with that piano.

Maude is dismayed by the state of the bedroom floor: it seems to be lacking a rug! Trim is also severely deficient, as are curtains. How is a girl to have a comfortable night under these conditions? At least she has the reassurance of being surrounded by her childhood bedroom set (from Sears) — but still, carpet would be nice on those cold desert mornings.