Friday, April 4, 2014


     My plan was to do "D IS FOR DOLLHOUSES," and to take a few pictures of the dollhouse in my basement before I left yesterday morning to drive to Vermont with my friend Michele for a mini-writing retreat.  My husband built that dollhouse from a kit for my daughter, and after she stopped playing with it years ago it moved to a tabletop in our basement.  But I'm mostly the one who arranged the furniture and household belongings in it, and from the beginning I played with it more than she did.  And still, when I go down to the basement to do laundry, I'll stop to admire it, do a little rearranging, imagine what it would be like to live there...
   But I forgot to take that photo before I left, which kind of defeats my whole plan, because why bother posting pictures of dollhouses and their miniature contents from Google images when you can just look those up yourself, if you're so inclined? 
     So I'm left D-less.  And I've been trying to come up with viable alternative Ds, and instead all I can think of are things like: D is for draconian laws... dental floss... Darwinian evolution... demo cars... desolate landscapes...  Diet Coke.  D is for debonair denunciations; dainty Dobermans; dolorous dance parties.  D is for decrepit doughnuts, demented dentists, and dissatisfied dominatrixes.  D is for... well, I dunno what D is for.  It's all too daunting, too demoralizing, too devastating for me.  And so I dare to desist.  But -

     I thought that first, you might want to see a glimpse of my darling dogs....
p.s.  Seriously, though.  I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but Doctors Without Borders is one of the most inspirational groups I know of.  I'm a Field Partner, which means I make small but regular monthly donations to them, and I urge you to do the same if you can.  These are people who will go anywhere in the world, no matter how dangerous, to try to save lives.  In my opinion, they are the faces of true heroism.


  1. A fun read, thanks for you D-less, D-filled musings :) Must say I find the idea of basement dollhouses both intriguing and incredibly scary in a weird Amityville, Hitchcock kinda way, but that's not your doing just my own weird brain.

    1. Hi, Evan! I vaguely remember a Twilight Zone episode about a man who falls in love with a mysterious woman who ends up as a doll in the dollhouse from whence she came. I can't remember whether or not this was voluntary on her part. Okay, now I'm creeping myself out! But thank you for stopping by.