…Isak Dinesen and Annie Dillard. They are two of my favorite writers, and I have read some of their books over and over again. I can’t resist what comes after, “I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of the Ngong Hills.” I know I’m caught when the first sentence reads, “I used to have a cat, an old fighting tom, who would jump through the open window by my bed in the middle of the night and land on my chest.”
D is also for dollhouse. There is a big old dollhouse in my family, my mother’s favorite childhood toy. We three daughters played with it next, and then the grandchildren had their turn. It’s in storage now, a little the worse for wear, but I’ve seen it and know it survives. These are a few bits and things that I tucked into my pocket on a visit a few years ago, just so I could have a bit of my childhood back before it disappeared completely. Most of them are from the 1920’s, pewter and lead and china. The doll is named, appropriately, Dolly. She is only thirty-five, of the grandchildren’s generation, and well-loved.
Not Plain Jane 