Tuesday, January 16, 2018

A snowy welcome to the family



I woke this morning to find a world of white. It was so wonderous that I blinked my eyes in disbelief. It wasn't a fluke of the lighting though. I really was seeing all that white fluffy goodness coating everything outside the window. 

Had I ever seen such a sight before? If I had I sure couldn't remember it. Snow was only one of many things I couldn't remember though. Far as I can recall my life began shortly before Christmas when I suddenly came to in the hands of my wood carver but I am told that was not my true beginnings. 

From what I have been told I began life as Isabella, one of four little wooden dolls carved by Natalie Cooper. Nat was unhappy with my looks...how offending is that?...so she remade me, putting me through hours and hours of reconstructive surgery.

Thankfully, I can remember none of that. If I could, I'm afraid I might be horribly offended. I wouldn't mind undergoing reconstructive surgery if I was badly injured or maimed but to go through such because my looks were offensive...that just hurts.

 Since I can't remember being put through all of that, I prefer to forget it ever happened. Which leaves me with a very short memory. All my rembembrances start in Natalie's wood shop when I was told I would be going to a new home. And now here I am at the Pioneer Hitty house and snow. Real snow.

Noises outside the window drew my attention to Justin and Hook. Like all young boys they always seem to be up to trouble. Today was no exception. I could just make them out through the falling snow, outside, cavorting about and tormenting the resident cat, Autumn.

I shook my head at Justin, lying in the snow, playing dead doll and worrying the cat. 

Boys. 






I longed to go outside and experience the snow for myself but I still have not managed to settle into my new home. Everyone has been very kind but I just haven't found my spot amongst them yet. I guess it's because I'm shy, at least that's what Hook says. 

Being too shy to venture outdoors, I sat at the window and watched the boys. Hook flipped and flopped across the yard, doing handstands and confusing the poor cat. He finally came to a stop, straight upside down, his head stuck in the snow. Autumn quickly poked her nose against him, getting a good smell of what I am sure had to be stinky pants. 



Tillie joined me at the window, watching the boys. They finally grew tired of torturing the poor cat and proceeded to climb trees and slide down the snowy limbs.

"They're having all the fun." Tillie grabbed my arm, "Come on, Isabella. I've been longing for snow since forever. Let's go show the boys how to enjoy it."

"I think I'd best stay here." Much as I wanted to join them, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. What if they thought I played funny or worse, what if they didn't like how I looked and made fun of me or insisted I undergo another operation?

"Nope." Tillie yanked on my arm, dragging me toward the door. "You want to play in the snow. I can see it on your face. That smile of yours is lighting up the room."

I couldn't argue with her. I did want to go out in that snow. So much, I wanted to go out there. I just didn't want to go out there with the other Pioneer Hitty's. I would love to go out alone, just me and the cat. 

"We're all going out." With that announcement, Tillie dropped my arm and ran through the house, yelling for everyone to get dressed for the snow because we were going out to give the boys a run for their money.

"I'm not going out there." Merry huddled deeper into her quilt, a stubborn look on her face. "I've had enough snow to last me a lifetime."

"Oh, come on, Merry." Tillie stopped in front of her. "You weren't even really in that blizzard. It's a made up story. You've never seen snow before."

"I went through a blizzard and got lost in the snow. I am not going out there." Merry refused to budge from her spot on the big people's dresser. Huddled as she was in her scrap of a quilt, I had to admit she did look warmer than any of the rest of us. 

"You're going." Tillie yanked the quilt away from Merry and flung it off the dresser. "Isabella, give me a hand, will you?"

"Me? What do you want me to do?" I wasn't the least interested in getting into their little argument. I wanted to fit in, to be able to just be me in the midst of this noisy, rambunctious crowded family. I did not want to be in the middle of their fights.

"Grab Merry's arm and help me haul her outside where we can all enjoy the snow." Tillie wrapped both hands around Merry's arm and tugged.

"I'm not going out in the snow." Merry dug her heels in, refusing to budge. "Isabella, don't you dare help Tillie, she's off her rocker."

"If you don't help me, Issy, I will sick the boys on you." Tillie pushed the words out between gritted teeth.

What to do? 

If I helped Merry would hate me. If I didn't help, not only would Tillie hate me but she would put the boys up to hating me too. I fought the urge to cry. The last thing I needed to do was let the overpowering Tillie see my tears. She and the boys seemed to be the ring leaders in this circus of a family.

"Issy, get over here and pull." Tillie grunted, her efforts to budge Merry unsucessful.

"Isabella, don't you dare." Merry's threat sounded more like begging.

I looked from one of them to the other through a haze of tears. I wished I had never crawled out of bed this morning. 

"Issy..." There was a warning in Tillie's voice.

"Isabella." 

And just as much warning in Merry's. I sucked in a deep breath. Faced with such a daunting problem I longed to bury my head in the snow like Hook had done and never come out but that wasn't an option. There was no getting around it. I had to make a choice. Help Tillie or help Merry. 

I looked from one to the other. Merry's expression pleaded with me to choose her side, Tillie's threatened retribution if I didn't choose hers. There was no good option. No middle ground.

I wrapped my arm around Merry's arm. "Come on, Merry. Tillie's right, that blizzard was in a made up story, we don't know if you've ever really seen snow before. Wouldn't you like to know what it really feels like?"

"No, I wouldn't." 

Merry fought each step but she couldn't stay put with both of us pulling on her. Reluctantly, step by step, she climbed off the dresser and let us pull her outside. 


                                


We stepped out into a winter wonderland that made me forget all about the cold air that sucked the breath right out of me.

It was beautiful.

And breathtaking.

"It's cold." Merry tugged at her nightgown. "I'm not dressed for this."

"None of us are." Tillie kept yanking on Merry until we were all off the porch and standing in the snow.

It was softer than I had expected. My painted on boots did little to block out the damp coldness but I wasn't about to complain. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever experienced.

"This is your fault, Tillie. Why didn't you let me stay inside where it was warm?" Merry pulled her arms free. "I don't blame Isabella at all, you blackmailed her into helping you abscond with me."

"Oh, stop being a party pooper, Merry. This'll be fun." Tillie pointed at the boys, "Look at how much fun the boys are having."


                                 

"Doesn't that look like fun?" Tillie did a little dance, kicking up snow.

"No, it does not look like fun, does it, Isabella?" Merry stood straight as a board.

"Actually, I think it does look like fun." I reached down and ran my fingertips, or mittentips, since I didn't really have fingers, through the snow at my feet. It was icy cold but so soft and fluffy.

"Wa-hoo" Hook let out a shriek loud enough to shake the snow off a nearby limb and slid down a stick protruding from a tree.

                                  

"Come on, Merry," Hitty Mama stepped off the porch, Hitty Baby tucked safely in his pink sling. The poor child was wearing nothing but a diaper. He didn't even have a blanket. "None of us are dressed for this weather, the Pioneer Hitty closet is sorely lacking in warm clothes, but the least we can do is all take a quick walk in the snow."

Merry looked longingly at the front door, "If Hitty Baby can handle this cold then I guess I can too."

"That's the spirit." Hitty Husband clomped his way off the porch, one hand behind him holding his robe closes. "Let's get this over with."

Merry laughed, "You don't seem to like this any more than I do."

"I don't like this white stuff but my little wife loves it and thinks we all should be excited." He wrapped an arm around Hitty Mama and led them out into the yard.

It was all I could do not to laugh at them. Hitty Mama was wearing a dress more suited to warm spring days and Hitty Husband was wearing a woman's dress turned backwards. It really did not fit him so he was forced to hold it closed which was only sort of working. Each step he took threatened to let us see way more of him than we wanted to.

I was very grateful I had come to the Pioneer Hitty house with my own dress and shawl.

"Come on, Ladies, let's get this over with so we can get the baby inside." Hitty Husband nodded toward the trees at the edge of the yard.

The boys ran over to tell the baby how much fun the snow was. From the sound of the baby's cries I didn't think he agreed with their opinion. It didn't help any when the boys flopped down in the snow and started kicking snow at each other.








The boys jumped up and took off, chasing each other through the snow. There was no containing their exuberance. They didn't even seem to notice that they weren't dressed for the snow. Justin was wearing shorts and long sleeves and Hook...Hook didn't even have on a shirt! But they paid their lack of clothing no attention.

Hitty Baby's cries grew more insistent, and no wonder, that little sling couldn't be keeping him warm. I reached to remove my shawl, the least I could do was cover him.

"We really need to get more clothes." Hitty Mama rubbed the baby's uncovered head. "The baby is freezing."




She started for the house without waiting for Hitty Husband. I refastened my shawl as the baby's cries faded into the distance. Hitty Husband lumbered to his feet, trying to keep himself covered. "You kids have fun."

                                   

"I'm going with them." Merry started after Hitty Husband, carefully placing her feet where he had stepped. "They might need my help with the baby."

A snowball hit Tillie in the chest. She looked down at the the splat of white on her sweater. "Knock it off, Justin."

Another snowball flew through the air, barely missing Tillie. Then another and another. The boys laughter rang out from the trees.

"That's it," Tillie shouted, "You boys are asking for it."

She dropped to her knees and started shoving snow into a wall in front of her. Her white pantalettes blended in with the fluff all around her. I didn't know if I should stay with her or go inside. No one had asked me to come back inside but Tillie hadn't asked me to stay either.

"Help me." Tillie kept shoving snow into the wall. "The boys will blast us with snowballs any minute.

That settled it. I didn't want to be a part of a snow ball fight but if it helped this new family of mine to accept me, I would stay and fight with them.





The boys ran over and started making a wall of their own. I paused in my own work, unable to keep myself from watching the boys use their heads as shovels.




"Don't stop," Tillie shouted. "You don't know the boys. They'll soon have their wall finished and a whole pile of snowballs."

I really didn't want to participate in this snowball fight. Already Tillie was lying flat on her belly, shoving snow into the wall as quickly as she could. She was covered in snow. I really liked the white fluffy stuff but I wasn't at all sure I wanted to be covered in it like Tillie was.



"Hey, boys," I yelled across the expanse between the two walls, "How about we call a truce to the snowball fight and I'll show you a surprise."

"It's a trick." 

I couldn't tell which of the boys answered me. Maybe Hook, he seemed to be the one in charge between the two.

"No, it's not." I just wasn't real sure what the surprise was. What could I possibly offer the boys that would be more fun than pelting us with snowballs? Snowmen wouldn't work, neither would a walk in the woods, they'd already done both of those. "It's a real good surprise. I promise you'll like it."


The boys stopped shoveling snow with their heads and peered over the wall.

"What is it?" Justin looked dubious. "It's fun to throw snowballs." 

"You'd better make this good," Tillie hissed, "or they'll put rocks in the snowballs and throw them at us faster than we can grab our own snow.


"It'll be worth it." I wasn't sure if I was answering Tillie or reassuring the boys, either way I was offering something I didn't have.

What kind of surprise would entice the boys?

"So what is it?" Justin peered over the wall, snow covered one side of his face.


"Yeah, what is it?" Hook's snow coated head joined Justin's. 

                                 


Both boys stood there, huffing and puffing. I had to come up with something quick. "It's..." I looked around, there was nothing to offer the boys but snow, snow and more snow. "It's..."

"It's what?" Hook demanded. 

Boys like trouble and...food? Hadn't I heard somewhere that boys like food? What kind of food is most enticing to boys? Candy. Ice cream. That was it. "It's snow ice cream." 





                                   

"Snow ice cream. Wo-hoo." Hook went flipping across the snow.

"Count me in." Justin flopped backward in the snow. "I love ice cream."



"Just how are you going to make ice cream out of snow?" Tillie hissed in my ear. "Those boys will demand ice cream now and if you don't produce they'll torture us both."

"It's easy." How hard could it be anyway? Snow was already thick and cold, all we needed was...milk and sugar. I hoped.

"It better be." Tillie rose from the snow and dusted herself off, leaving almost as much white on her front as she had started with.

"You boys go get something to scoop snow and a bowl to put it in."  I waited until the boys were out of earshot before turning to Tillie. "How hard can it be? They're boys. Boys are always hungry and these two have been running and playing hard for hours. They've got to be ready for a treat. Some snow, a little sugar and a dab of milk and they'll think they've gotten the best ice cream around. It may all be in their heads but they'll never notice that."

"I hope you're right because here they come."

I turned to see the boys dragging a very large bowl and a huge pancake turner behind them. If they were struggling under the weight, they didn't show it.

"Will these work?" Justin stopped next to a deep drift of snow.

"Uh...yeah, they'll work just fine." I joined the boys and helped them scoop up snow with the pancake turner. The thing was huge and made of metal so it was hard to handle and almost as cold as the snow was but if it kept the boys in a productive mood instead of an ornery one I was all for using it.




We shoveled up mound after mound of snow with that pancake turner until we had a good sized pile of it in the big bowl. 

"That's enough." I let go of the make-shift shovel and leaned against the bowl. "Now we just need sugar, some milk, and a little vanilla." 

"Where are we supposed to get that?" Justin helped Hook lift the last scoop of snow into the bowl. 

"Same place we got the snow." Hook shoved Justin's shoulder. "All we have to do is raid the kitchen."

"You boys are good at that." Tillie leaned over the edge of the bowl, looking at the snow. She looked as tired as I felt but at least the boys were no longer determined to attack us with snowballs.




"It doesn't look much like ice cream makings to me." Hook was back to being doubtful. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Of course I'm sure." At least I was as sure as I could be considering I was seriously doubtful that one could turn snow into ice cream. "Just look at all that good ice cream in the bowl."

"It's not ice cream."

"It will be." Tillie pointed at the mound of white we had collected. "I think it's going to be yummy."

"Me too." Hook leaned so far over the bowl he almost fell in.



"We'll go get the stuff to make it." Justin yanked Hook back and both boys took off running toward the house.

"I sure hope this works." Tillie poked at a small bit of snow on the side of the bowl.

"It'll work." It had to.

The boys slowly made their way back to where we stood. The boys were tugging on a jug of milk while trying to hang onto the things they had tucked under their arms. It looked to me like Justin was toting a bottle of some sort and Hook had a small bag. It was all I could do not to go and help them but boys needed to feel useful, they didn't like girls doing their work.

I stayed where I was, waiting on them to reach us. It was a long wait, this time the boys were struggling with their load. Little by little they made their way closer to us until they stood next to the bowl.

"We got it." Justin set the bottle in the snow.

"Great." Tillie took the sack from Hook and dumped the sugar into the bowl. "Now go get us a spoon."

"A spoon." Justin grumbled but did as he was told.

It took me and Hook both to lift the little bottle and dump vanilla into the bowl. We let a good bit pour in then set the bottle back on the ground and put the lid back on it. Justin came running back, a spoon draped across his shoulders. He stuck it in the bowl and helped us lift the jug of milk.

"How much." Tillie watched the creamy liquid run into the bowl.

"About that much." I had no idea how much milk we needed. "We have to stir it all together and see if we need more."

We set the milk down. Hook took charge of the spoon, stirring the ingredients together. At first I didn't think the ingredients were going to mix, the snow just sort of clumped up and stuck together, but finally they began to mix, growing creamier and creamier until the contents of the bowl resembled ice cream.

Sort of.

                                

Justin stuck his hand in the bowl and scooped out a glob. He licked it off his mitten-fingers. I held my breath, waiting to see what his reaction would be.

"Hey, it's good," He held the glob out to Hook, "it tastes like ice cream."

Hook grabbed a bit off Justin's hand and popped it in his mouth. "It is good," he muttered, his cheeks bulging. "I'm glad you're my sister, Isabella. You have good ideas."

Sister.

He had called me his sister. I was one of them now. I was a Pioneer Hitty.





Friday, January 12, 2018

The Wonderful Adventures of Merryweather Anne Farmhouse...Book ordering



I finally managed to get a peek of the cover of my new book. I can't say it's all that much to look at but my owner seems to be happy with it. I would have preferred something a bit more interesting on the cover, like a picture of Killing Bear...the Indian I encounter in my story...but for some reason my owner wanted me on the cover.

I suppose I will have to go along with what she wants because she knows way more about these computer contraptions than I do. Despite my best efforts to change the cover all I managed to do was make a tangle of the computer pages which my owner had to straighten out.

I do so hope there is more to my story than just me. How dreadfully dull the pages of that book would be if there is nothing to read about me boring old me. The back of the book does give me hope that that will not be the case:

                             The Wonderful Adventures of Merryweather Anne Farmhouse 

The winter of 1880 brings much excitement and adventure for Merry, a little doll, carved of wood, with painted on features and pegged limbs. She comes to life under the hands of Papa who carves her as a present for his little granddaughter. With Lura, Merry faces a blizzard, Indians, and many other adventures on the prairie while traveling in a covered wagon and settling into a new home in Indian Territory.

In case anyone stumbles across this blog and finds themselves as curious about my book as I am, you can get a copy sent right to your door by going to the link below.

http://www.lulu.com/shop/crystal-dean/the-wonderful-adventures-of-merryweather-anne-farmhouse/paperback/product-23486487.html

The wonderful adventures of Merryweather Anne Farmhouse

Hello,
It's me, Merry, again. This whole online blog stuff is rather confounding to me, a little wooden doll. I know nothing about computers or blogging. My owner says I am what they call an old soul. If I understand that correctly it means my mind is older than I am. I guess she's right because I feel much older than a few short months.

I hope not to have to use this computer contraption too many times but I just heard my owner say she has finished my book. My pegs are jumping. I will soon have my very own book, written all about me and my many adventures. I can't wait to read it.

I did manage to get my hands on the first little bit of my story and I wanted to share it with you, my wonderful readers.


                                                                    Chapter One

Icy air slapped me in the face at the very moment I had a face. Something wet landed on my middle. Shivers made my whole being shake. A deep fog of nothingness filled my mind. Where was I?

What was I? 

An all encompassing blackness surrounded me. I could not make out anything around me beyond the coldness that gripped me in its claws. I struggled to make sense of this place I found myself in but I could not. All I knew was moisture, cold and a darkness so great nothing penetrated it. How it was that  I knew that I had a face, I did not know. There was just a deep knowing that somewhere on me there was a face. Although, try as I might I could come up with no understanding of what a face was.

And so I lay there, alone, cold, unsure of my surroundings. An occasional bump or thump made my insides jump but I could do nothing beyond strain to hear more which was of no help at all because the only more to be heard was a great howling..



That is the only part of my book that I have yet been able to read. I can't wait to read more about all my adventures. In the pages of my book I travel by covered wagon, experience a blizzard, face Indians, get lost on the prairie and much more.

I am trying very hard to get hold of more of my book but so far my owner is keeping it well hidden from my little wooden hands. If I can find any more loose pages lying about I plan to snatch them up lickety split.

Sunday, January 7, 2018

Introducing Merryweather Anne Farmhouse






My name is Merryweather Anne Farmhouse, but I am better known as Merry. I'm not entirely sure how I ended up on this blog. It would seem that I must play two roles. You see, I was carved by Wanda Harrigan from wood from an old farmhouse in Oklahoma. My wood dates back to the 1880's, although we are not entirely sure exactly how old my wood is.

I, on the other hand, am much younger. I was carved in 2017 and came to live with my current owner on Christmas of 2017. I was a Christmas present to her from her husband. I can already tell that I am a very cherished little doll of six and one quarter inches tall.

Long before my owner opened the stuffy little box I was shipped to her in, she made me a lovely little gown and pantalettes from an antique pillowslip (or pillowcase as they are more commonly called today). The pillowslip is assumed to be from the 1930's-1950's so isn't quite as old as my wood. It is made of a lovely cotton that has a texture that is a pure joy to wear, and I'm told was a pure joy for my owner to work with while sewing it.

But that's not all my new owner did before receiving me. After seeing just one picture of me not only did she know she had to have me but I am told that she began writing a story about me that she is turning into a book.

It's in the pages of that book that my double role comes in. My new owner wrote a wonderful story about all the things she imagines my wood might have seen over the many years it was part of an old farmhouse. Because writing about a new doll made of old wood held no appeal to my owner, she chose instead to write a story about me set when my wood became part of an old house.

The old house I came from saw many, many things over the years. Because I was a part of that house, I saw just as many things. I wish I could tell you all the stories I saw over all those years. In that house I saw the passing of the 1800's and the coming of the 1900's. I saw the ever shortening of ladies skirts until those skirts gave way to little scraps of material hardly big enough to make a dress for me. I saw wars, the depression, births and deaths, laughter and tears. I saw horse drawn carriages give way to motorized vehicles. I also saw the changing of centuries...twice. Let's just say that my wood has seen so much that it could fill vast volumes to overflowing and still have more to tell.

If only my wood could tell all those stories.

Without the ability to find out just what it is my wood has seen, my owner did the next best thing, she wrote a book all about my wood. My new owner did not think a story written about an old house would be much fun so she chose to write a story about a little wooden doll...me.

She set the story in the 1880's and in the pages of her book she gave me to a wonderful little girl of 8 years old. There is much history woven into the pages of my story but I will leave you to learn just what that is in the pages of my book, 'The Wonderful Adventures of Merryweather Anne Farmhouse'.