Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Mockingbird Hill Cottage

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Wednesday

September 1, 2021 at 10:06 am by Claudia

Rain, rain, rain – Ida is passing by as she heads toward the Atlantic Ocean, so we’ll be getting about 2 to 3 inches by the time this is over. Right now, it’s a lovely gentle rain; the kind that makes me happy to relax, turn on the lights, and stay inside.

Happy September. I’ll admit it, I’m ready for fall. August was pretty much unbearable around my neck of the woods. Don’t let the door slam behind you, August.

I thought I’d share the photo of the Blythe doll I purchased, as some of you had questions about Blythes. If you’re new to them – as I am – seeing one that hasn’t been customized can be surprising, even spooky. But with the artists who do custom dolls; taking a basic doll and working on the skin, the nose, lips, hand painting the face, as well as adding a different wig – the transformation is striking. A basic Blythe doll has very shiny “skin” and the eyes are usually creepy. Anyway, because I’m curious and love to do research, I’ve learned a fair amount about the subject. Blythes, by the way, were originally made by Kenner, an American company, but that was only for a few years. Eventually, they stopped production and a Japanese company took control.

Here’s my girl:

She has freckles.

Photos: CandyFlossByRose

Interestingly, I never liked those paintings of kids with big eyes by Margaret Keane, though my best friend grew up with them and loves them to this day. But, somehow, I’m into these. There are so many people designing adorable clothes for them. You could easily go a little nuts, or as someone I follow who has been very helpful with information says: “You’ve gone down the rabbit hole.”

I realize they’re not everyone’s cup of tea, but at the age of 68, I am fascinated by them. Who knew? And I’ve found several ‘older’ women who love them and even customize them.

I’ve got an idea what her name will be, but I’ll wait until I see her in person. The lady in England who customized her also made the outfit. The dolls come in a couple of different sizes but the most popular version is just under 12 inches high.

She’s currently at Heathrow, awaiting her trip across the ocean.

I can’t wait to dress her in different outfits!

68 going on 8. I’m okay with that.

Stay safe.

Happy Wednesday.

Filed Under: dolls 21 Comments

Emma

August 31, 2021 at 10:06 am by Claudia

It seems like most mornings lately have been foggy. That makes me happy because I love a foggy morning.

We had some rain last night and tomorrow will bring lots of rain as Ida passes by us on its way out to see. There are already flood advisories posted. I will admit, I’m more than a little tired of all the rain, but there’s nothing I can do about it!

Several of you mentioned Tiny Tears in your comments on yesterday’s post. My sadness at losing mine fueled an unofficial search for one. I never found one to replace mine, but I did find a doll that reminded me very much of Tiny Tears. Several years ago – it has to be at least 11 years ago – I was in an antique shop in Hyde Park. I saw a little doll sitting on a child’s rocking chair. She was very tiny, her legs and arms were made of composition, so she was quite old. She wore a beautiful dress and matching bonnet, which I suspect were handmade. And she had the sweetest face. Several months went by. I revisited the shop right before I was due to leave for 10 weeks of coaching in San Diego.

She was still there. No one had rescued her. We were in one of those periods where our budget was very tight and that’s putting it mildly. So I couldn’t buy her.

Off I went to San Diego. I plunged into work. I started getting a paycheck. And I couldn’t get that little girl out of my head. She wasn’t perfect, she was well worn, but she had been loved at one time. I worried about her sitting in that chair, all alone. (Can’t help it, that’s the way I am.) Finally, I called the shop and asked if they remembered this little doll which was in a booth just to the right of the entrance. Amazingly, the man I spoke with remembered her right away. He put me on hold to make sure she was still there. She was. I explained that I was away, that I couldn’t get there for several weeks, but if I paid for her now, could they hold her until I got back home? Yes, he said. So I paid for her, gave him my phone number and email address and said I’d be there as soon as I could.

A couple of days after returning home, Don and I drove to the Antique Center and picked her up.

Here she is. Her name is Emma. The composition has cracked, and in some places, it’s missing. Her hair is sculpted and reminds me of the very first Tiny Tears dolls.

This photo gives you a better indication of just how tiny she is. She has bloomers!

She needed to be rescued, just like my doll with two left legs needed to be rescued, just like my putz sheep and my antique dollhouses needed to be rescued. Just like all three of our dogs needed to be rescued. And because she reminds me of a Tiny Tears doll, I don’t feel the need to search for one any longer.

She is perfect.

Stay safe.

Happy Tuesday.

 

Filed Under: dolls 22 Comments

Play

August 30, 2021 at 9:53 am by Claudia

Today marks the 16th anniversary of the day we officially moved into the cottage. Wow! For two people who thought the dream of owning our own place might be unattainable, that dream came true. We are ever grateful and never, never take this for granted. We have too many years of living in rentals, sometimes – in my case – very, very small rentals – behind us. We know how lucky we are.

Speaking of small, I’ve been thinking a lot about how, as I get older, my life and the things I collect speak to childhood and whimsey. I was talking about it to Don this morning. It all started in 2002, when I began to collect figural eggcups with chickens and ducks and geese and bunny rabbits. They spoke to something deep inside of me – a yearning for simpler times, perhaps, a love of the whimsical, and a love of the small. In the course of the past twenty years, I rescued two baby dolls. I made a cloth bunny rabbit. I’ve knitted bunny cozies for my egg cups. I started to collect thing from Vintage by Crystal – the queen of whimsey. I decided to try renovating a used dollhouse and look where that led me! I collect dollhouse miniatures. I collect putz sheep. I collect miniature pottery. I collect dollhouses.

The evolution of my collections – the change from art deco Fiesta Ware to the charming and whimsical designs of McCoy and Roseville (which were the beginning of this new focus) is fascinating to me. There’s something that draws me more and more to my childhood, which wasn’t idyllic, but was full of imagination and toys and making dollhouses out of shoeboxes.

Is there a comfort in the small? In the detail, the designs, the sweetness? Yes, the sweetness – that word just came to me. There’s a sweetness to dollhouses and wee bits of furniture. There’s a sweetness to dolls and eggcups and putz sheep and stuffed bears. A longing, perhaps. A yearning.

Yesterday, after dithering about it for days, I ordered a Blythe doll. I don’t know if you know what Blythe dolls are, but I see them all over Instagram and I have become entranced with them. There’s a whole world out there of Blythe collectors, people who make clothes for Blythes, people who modify the dolls to have distinct features. It’s like walking through a secret door and discovering a new world. The doll itself is not particularly attractive; it’s the way it has been sculpted and modified that can transform it into something darling.

Anyway – and I trust you will understand – I’ve been looking and I found a Blythe that spoke to me yesterday. (I think you have to fall in love with a particular face – it’s very personal.) She will be winging her way to me from England. I plan to slowly accumulate a wardrobe for her. I’ll take her with me to NYC for company, just as I used to take my stuffed bear and bunny with me when I went away for coaching jobs. (Maybe I’ll take all three!) I find myself yearning to play dress up with my doll. Maybe it goes back to my beloved Tiny Tears doll, with a wardrobe handmade by my grandmother – I can still see her pink corduroy coat and bonnet, which my mom disposed of without telling me. I still miss that beautiful doll. So I’ll have a new  doll that I can play with.

A little bit crazy? No doubt. But I strongly believe that play and whimsey keep us young at heart. I ran across this quote from my adored George Bernard Shaw this morning:

“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”

That says it all.

Stay safe.

Happy Monday.

Filed Under: dolls, whimsey 42 Comments

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Welcome!

Welcome!

I live in a little cottage in the country with my husband. It's a sweet place, sheltered by old trees and surrounded by gardens. The inside is full of the things we love. I love to write, I love my camera, I love creating, I love gardening. My decorating style is eclectic; full of vintage and a bit of whimsy.

I've worked in the theater for more years than I can count. I'm currently a voice, speech, dialect and text coach freelancing on Broadway, off Broadway, and in regional theater.

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