When I was a newborn, in Germany, I had thrush. My mother told me I cried and cried and cried. I had trouble eating and sleeping because the rash was so terrible. The neighbor ladies all spoke only German and my mother did not. They didn't understand why I cried so much but one of them gave me the doll with the blonde hair. She is hard plastic with ball joints and elastic that runs through her body to connect her arms , legs and head. She is 43 years old. Her dress is torn at the neck line, her hair is no longer soft and there are stains on her face. A long, long time ago she had ruffled bottoms that matched her dress. I do not remember when they were lost. My parents moved often and when they divorced most of our belongings were in storage. My father, for reasons unknown to me, refused to pay to have our things from storage shipped to us. As a result I have very few of the treasures of my first ten years. This doll is one of them. The Holly Hobby in her arms is not my original, mine was twelve or eighteen inches tall. I wore out three of them that I can remember. Holly Hobby was my lovey. I slept with her, I played with her, she went everywhere with me. I do not have any of the ones from my childhood. One Saturday morning I was at a yard sale and saw this six inch Holly and had to have her. The little girl who gave her up only asked a quarter for her. She is worth so much more.
day 14... someone you love.
Patrick looking up at me on the upstairs landing. He was working from home before heading out to the airport again.(yes, the man is that tan)
day 15...action.
Another Triathlon photo. I knew I would need an action shot for this project and the tri was a great place to grab one.
day 16... mason jar.
Filled with iced tea, a drink I am not suppose to have but LOVE!!!!
