Sewing Room

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Eeny, meeny, miny, MOE!

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It was dark, so I had to shoot into my closet where the light would hit. To the left of these are two more stacks of five bins each, to the right three more. And I have more bins elsewhere.

Today I’m going to Choose My Next Victim.

Ever since I started collecting dolls – once I discovered their existence – I’ve been an avid collector, going in fits and spurts. The fits being a doll every now and then, the spurts being dolls upon dolls arriving on my doorstep, to the point they were “stacked up like firewood” in any place I could put them. So I have dolls galore to the point where finding one to prepare for her next home shouldn’t be too hard, right?

Wrong. I am the America of doll collectors: “Give me your naked, your wigless, your well-loved and faded…”


I set up my sewing room kind of like a kitchen. “Good Enough Construction Company” (of which I happen to be the sole owner and operator) installed the cabinets. This one is below-the-sink size, and it’s stuffed with the large girls and the girls who are in pieces and waiting to be restrung, safely kept in bags so their parts don’t become separated.

I remember once upon opening a box and removing a doll my then five-year-old son said, “Look, Mom! It’s not broken!”

So I shall go through bin upon bin over the din of clamoring voices. “Me! Pick me! I’ve been waiting the longest!”


These are some of my older dolls, the bisques and the china heads. The paper mache doll on the far left in the plaid is very homely, the victim of a repaint. But I love her so much! And can hardly wait to make her pretty once more. Or at least “plain” rather than “homely.”

It’s like my very own reality show! Who will be chosen? What will they end up wearing? Will the sewing go smoothly or will there be copious unpicking? Can I even find my unpicker after all this time? And finally, to whose home are they destined to go?

We shall see…

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Fifty-One Shades of Blonde Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

While I love to write and have written dozens and dozens of books – in my HEAD! I’ve never before actually sat down and written a book. My brothers gave me that opportunity.

“Write a book,” they said.

“Okay, how?” It turns out that writing in one’s head and picking out a cover and a title are a far cry from actually putting something on paper.

“Just write it,” they said.

“Okay…hmm….how’s this?”

“Nope, that’s not it. Try again,” they said.

“Okay, how ’bout this?”

“Better, but not quite.”

There really have been 27 or so versions of this book, with Dennis and Kenny guiding me and challenging me along the way. They even sent me a book I call the “How to Write Good” book, and it helped too.

A year and a half goes by.

“How’s this?” I asked.

“That’s it,” they said.

Hazel Twigg & The Hollyhock Hideaway is in its final editing stages. I thought that perhaps now I could coast a little bit, but no! Now my brothers want me to tackle a NEW frontier: Live Streaming Video.


There ARE pockets of and there...

There ARE pockets of orderliness…here and there…

They wanted me to start last Monday and they told me the Friday before. I was going to use the weekend to tidy up my sewing room, since that’s where the broadcast would take place. I pictured a pristine Martha Stewart-type setting and me with my hair and makeup just so, charmingly witty and well-rehearsed. And thin.

But surrounded by the chaos that is my sewing room I quickly became overwhelmed. Monday rolled around as it always does and I didn’t say a thing. I certainly didn’t turn on any camera. And I hoped my brothers wouldn’t notice.

They’re a lot smarter than they look.

I was going to do a post on my sewing room before any of this came about, purposely making the picture blurry, never imagining it would one day be seen. YIKES. This ain't no sissy mess!

I was going to do a post making fun of my sewing room before any of this came about, purposely making the picture blurry, never imagining the room itself would one day be seen. YIKES. This ain’t no sissy mess! Good thing my mother loves me.

So I’m starting TODAY at noon eastern on Ustream with a WYSIWYG approach. My sewing room looks like a bomb went off in it. And, oh joy! My right eye has an infection. YESS. Challenge accepted, my public awaits! Or at least my mom.

So for the mess that is my sewing room: “This must be how geniuses work,” I shall tell myself. And my eye: I’ve thought of something fun for that too.

Once more into the breach!


The breach can be found here: