....as I opened the door into my work room, a noticeable hush seemed to come over the room.
The dolls, who are usually quite talkative, were as quiet as mice.
I should have been more surprised when I found that "someone" had painted deep red circles on the cheeks of all the other dolls during the night.
I sat down at the painting table and looked around me.
One of my newest ladyes, a most demure Queen Anne, who was standing nearby, pushed a small folded piece of paper towards me with the toe of her
beautifully embroidered shoe.
Inside, neatly written in long spidery sepia ink, was this message to me:
Dear Madame Doll maker,
The dolls, who are usually quite talkative, were as quiet as mice.
I should have been more surprised when I found that "someone" had painted deep red circles on the cheeks of all the other dolls during the night.
I sat down at the painting table and looked around me.
One of my newest ladyes, a most demure Queen Anne, who was standing nearby, pushed a small folded piece of paper towards me with the toe of her
beautifully embroidered shoe.
Inside, neatly written in long spidery sepia ink, was this message to me:
Dear Madame Doll maker,
Lydia....
had a paintbrush in her mouth last evening.
most sincerely,
and with deepest regret,
Q.A.
oh......whatever is to be done with Lydia?
~excerpt from The Pastoral Doll maker in the Summer 2008 issue
Artful Blogger~
