A few months ago, I bought myself a treat--a little 8" Madame Alexander doll with a miniature stuffed Paddington Bear and a tiny suitcase. I put the pair, the girl and the bear, on my dish cabinet and I noticed immediately that looking at the two of them gave me a little thrill every morning.
Then, I bought that boy doll with the broken arm and stood him up in my bedroom with the "first face I see every morning" girl doll Mike bought me--and voila! another pair! The boy wearing overalls and no shirt has an arm that needs repair and the girl has a loose head.
Whenever I went into shops on my way from one place to another, I began to notice dolls. Not all dolls, not even all Madame Alexander dolls, but ones that reminded me of childhood stories that I want to teach Elena. Yesterday Red Riding Hood and Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz showed up and before I knew it, they were in my car heading home with me.
When we were little girls, Betty got the Madame Alexander dolls for Christmas and I liked them. At that time, though, I was more interested in the larger fashion dolls with clothes I could change (and Carlene could make).
As I have looked at these little dolls, I've had conversations with a few doll collectors (which I resolutely don't want to become!) and learned a few things about serious collecting. One woman suggested I buy books and learn about collecting. I will not be doing that. But she told me how to re-string a doll whose legs are wobbly (with forceps) and I will be doing that for Little Red Riding Hood who is so afflicted.
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