Yesterday I took pictures of all the dolls that are in my doll closet. A picture of each. I posted them on Picassa and now I am free to let them go. But where? I haven't figured that out.
I displayed the Tiny Tears dolls so that I can see them when I want. But none of them were mine. I had to buy them on Ebay and only one of them cost very much. And only one of them even looks good. But the one I love is in the little red dress. She is the one very much like my own original Tiny Tears. I loved that doll to death and then I gave her to my daughter 20 years later and Tiny died one arm and leg at a time.
Another group of the dolls are from my childhood and my sister's donation to me of her dolls. They have come apart and cracked and lost their heads, but they are still dolls and they can be loved in their pieces. I packed them up in antique linens and figure that is a good use of both things.
For awhile I was a doll maker. I made my daughter a doll each year for Christmas. Some of them were pretty good but not like real play with baby dolls. These are precious to me and I'm hoping that my granddaughter will share them with her daughter someday and they will live again. They are also packed away.
And then there are my Santas. What a wonderful time I had coming up with different Santas to make. It was a ball. It was one of those things I was able to share the joy with my husband. He was proud of me for trying.
The last of the dolls were my daughters dolls. They don't quite match up to the old dolls but they are still precious. These are out for Hannah to play with.
The bears were usually gifts from my sister to my daughter. They are music boxes and from San Francisco Bay Company. The big guy was her gift to my son. He is not a music box. He talks back to you and can be programmed.
I love dolls and now I can go on to something else because they are well taken care of.
Yesterday I played with dolls.
