A confession, a book and a doll

I have a thing about dolls. I still have many of the dolls from my sixties childhood. They are hidden away. I’ve kind of felt ashamed about my doll love affair. It’s childish. I thought people would think me childish. Yes I am childish in many ways, after all, being child-like is an autistic trait. But. The new, no, …the real me… is gradually appearing and taking over and conquering the fears of the person I thought I was.

So, I’m coming out. And, my dolls should come out of the closet too.

I need to find a glass fronted antique style cabinet to display them. This is important as our home has two fires and sooty dust is a fact of life.

A year ago, before my shoulder became fully frozen I was completing a lot of jigsaw puzzles and this was one of them…

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This jigsaw helped me re-identify with my authentic doll loving self. As a child my mum encouraged me to play with my dolls. I didn’t know how. But i did love to look at them. I liked collecting them. (During my teenage years I found all my dolls under the house and in the refuse bin. They were rescued and hidden away!)

Wind forward a year later too late November 2017 when I bought this book…

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And inside I found the pattern for this doll that I completed last week…

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I made her with my handspun yarn and she’s stuffed with fleece, yarn ends and a bit of poly fill.

My dolls are still in the closet. It’s time to get them out.