Lego story #021: The bear that almost got away

Lego 21326 Winnie the Pooh was a beary sweet deal.

It was sitting on a shelf in BookOff. 7,500 yen (USD 55 then) was a sweet deal—but only if no pieces were missing.

My husband said, "Get it!!"

I said, "Nah. I wasn't planning to get this set." Had to admit it was very cute, though.

Each time I returned to BookOff, it was still on the shelf. The price for a new set was USD 99 (or cheaper on Amazon Japan for USD75), so why hadn't anyone snapped up this copy?

My husband kept chanting, "Get it, get it." (Which is not helpful when you're trying to stick to a spending plan.)

I said, "I don't know if I can resell this for profit. Because I wouldn't buy it otherwise. Anyway, I have other sets to focus on!"

But the Pooh kept haunting my thoughts.

Long story short: After doing my homework, I figured I could make a small profit if I sold the minifigures and Pooh's house separately on Merukari. (Yes, there are people who actually would buy just the house. One person had, in the past 6 months on Merukari.) 

And since it was a used copy, I could have the double benefit of building and photographing before reselling.

With no small trepidation, I cycled back to BookOff and asked an employee to open the taped-up set for inspection. Thankfully, they'd used the kind of tape that doesn't rip off box material.

I couldn't tell if all 1,265 pieces were present, but I could see a few important things in a glance:

First, all the minifigures were there. Phew!

Second, while the pieces weren't repacked by original bag number, the previous owner had at least taken care to wrap them neatly. Also, the house wasn't fully dismantled and I could see all the major sections present. Ergo: more likely there weren't missing pieces.

Third, the manual looked pristine in its transparent wrapping. Finally, the box had few, if any, scuffs.

"I'll take it!" I told the BookOff employee. 

I pedaled home excitedly, hoping the box wouldn't gain new scuffs every time my bike bounced on the road.

I was impatient to rebuild the set and see if any parts were missing. And thankfully none were!

So here is Pooh's house, from the ground up. (Pardon the grainy photos from my old phone).

It's a little cramped indoors. But the small footprint also makes the set easier to display in tight spaces.

I love being able to open this up like a dollhouse with hinged walls. Hardly a unique concept in Lego, but it's my first set with this feature.

In the entrance hallway: umbrella stand, mirror (one that actually reflects!), teapot and teacup, and map of the Hundred-Acre Wood.

The tree trunk is an interesting build. 

The leaf clusters are like other Lego foliage I've experienced (the Bonsai, the Treehouse): they may look complex, but they use simple, repeated patterns and are easy to assemble.

Peeking into the attic, we find "Poohsticks." At first I wondered if they were some kind of snack.

No. Wikipedia says that Poohsticks "is a simple game which may be played on any bridge over running water." Standing on the bridge, each player drops a stick downstream. The winner is the player whose stick emerges first on the other side of the bridge.

Apparently, annual World Poohsticks Championships have been held at the River Thames since 1984!

My favorite part of the house is this grey stove with a black pipe.

But the real stars are Pooh and Company.

As vibrant as the house looks, if you take away the minifigures, you'll feel something's missing: a sense of life and each character's unique contribution to the color palette.

I didn't grow up with Pooh, so the set doesn't hold sentimental value for me. Yet I haven't gotten around to reselling it!

I guess the bear and his friends have grown on me. 

In fact, owning the set has made me interested to read about Pooh. When I spotted a set of old Pooh books for sale on Facebook, I bought them Miss S's bedtime reading.

Now, Lego 21326 Winnie the Pooh holds the record for being my longest-displayed set. Hip hip pooh-ray!