I have so many things I could say about what I'll do with the next doll, things to make her stronger and fit into a more sensible vision of how I'd like a doll to turn out, but I could also say how many things that please me: I was so shocked at how sweet her nose worked out, how redoing her eyes was worth it, and her little Mona Lisa smile.
I had bought this funky yarn a year ago, meaning to start making then, but it didn't quite work out, and the yarn! It's so touchable! I kept a lock of it to remind me of my first girl.
Oh, and I suppose I don't quite mean my first girl right up there--the blondie who wanted her photograph taken in Grandma's bed. We spent the holidays there, with cousins and everyone tucked into the corners, and they observed my yankings and tweakings and redoings. We lined up my own doll with my children's first dolls: the first, the green-haired guy, is a Sami Doll, and the blondie with braids is a Q'awer Project doll. (I've learned, for the collector, these things matter.) (But for my kids, not a bit.)
So clearly one of the first issues with poor Cora, whose name came to me as I plucked away at her features, is that her hair is out of control. So I had to do some weeding and readjusting: I've learned that crocheting a wig cap out of this yarn is a trick, and evening out the hair is another adventure. My hope is that the recipient will prop her up on some shelf and leave her hair as is, as underneath all the very neat placement are some surprising bald patches (or wig-patches). The next doll won't have this trouble. You should see me now--with every handmade or yarn-haired doll that crosses my path, I'm digging at the scalp as if checking for nits, trying to see how each maker evens it all out.
You can see this hair thing is really lingering for me. Not only do I love her locks, but they trouble me so! For now, Cora is wearing a borrowed dress from my daughter's stash; soon I'll sew up some goodness of her very own.
