Rag Doll Love

My doll, Mary in Grandpa's chair

When I was just a year old my Great Aunt Bess made me a doll from a bleached Robin Hood flour bag.  I know that it was a Robin Hood bag because his picture, although faded, was still faintly visible.  When I was old enough to talk I named her Mary and she became my constant companion.  She had long yarn braids and an embroidered face.  I absolutely adored her and slept with her, ate with her and dragged her (usually by one arm) around wherever I went.  Over time her face got tear stained, orange juice stained, and otherwise well-loved.  I decided that in the face of any disaster she would take precedence over any other possession I would rush to rescue.     The  painting above  is a water colour I made for my parents in 1971.  It hung in my mother’s room until she moved out of her home and into a seniors’ residence.  Now it has returned to me and will be passed on to my daughter.

The chair on which my doll is sitting was won by my grandfather who enjoyed lawn bowling.  My parents had it repaired and reupholstered for a wedding gift for my husband and me.  Hopefully someone will want it as a family keepsake one day.

 

 

 

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