Do you remember those times you read stories about fairies, dolls and faraway lands; of magic and wonder; of kindness and grace?
I do. I grew up with a parent who believed I should read as much as my little head could, even though he himself could not understand much of what I was reading. I had grandparents who attempted to indulge in my fantasies. And I had lots of dreams of dolls.
I started reading A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett when I was quite young. It was one of those little ladybird versions, so it was easy for young readers. Nevertheless, I was captured by the artwork featured on the books.
At that time, silly young me believed I have seen similar dolls in the shops and asked a very doting, if abrupt, grandfather to hunt one down for me. He lived out in the sticks, in a very small and some what poor town. Where was this man to find a ball jointed doll?
The clearly disappointed child has grown into an adult who would still like to have her own doll. My tastes are some what different now, but I would still like a ball jointed doll of my own. And soon, I will have 2!
Both are secondhand “rescues” that I have sent off to do some minor clean up work on. Hopefully, they will return soon and then, I will have pictures of my new family - Ava and Bobette. I can’t wait!