As she told her friend MerryJingle it was only 10 more months till Christmas. Well, usually she started planning THAT in July and as Spring was slow to raise her head this year Colette wasn't ready to tackle that!
Everyone else's thoughts had turned to sunshine and maitais. So she accessed her situation. She had made a supreme effort to stay organized. But somehow the house was cluttered again! Already.
She looked around her and saw her daughter's wonderful dollhouse.
One of her friends had suggested she go through all her dollhouses from beginning to end. Survey the collection. Gosh she had 18. If she started with the first week of each new month with a survey of one house a month that would take over a year! Then the rest of the month she could talk about whatever she wanted. Should she try this?
If she started at the oldest, in era, not manfacturer, that would be the Colonial house. She only had this blurry old image. Maybe it WAS time to update.
She had found it 10 years ago by the curb. It was delapidated and owned by a old woman who lived in 1790.This woman was named Charlotte Revere and was related to Colette through her mother's family long ago. (suspend belief at this point, as if you haven't already)
Colette wondered about the tradition of keeping the hair covered by woman. How universal was that. The women wore mob caps or lace pieces. Colette wondered how often they were able to wash their hair in 1790. Maybe that is why women wore braids so often.
Well, she would have to do some digging on this topic.
4 comments:
Keep the stories coming...I'm smiling already!
Well it will be an experience in time travel... 100 years to 10 years each month. I hope it just isn't too bumpy a ride. We're in horse and buggy mode for March. :) C
When I leave the house I never know what my dolls are going to do. Maybe leave Colette the camera and when you get home check what photos she's taken for you. I loved the "Suspend Belief" note. That was great. Excellent post.
So true. I never SEE any romance in the dollhouse... but there are children...
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