Okay, here comes an admission. I'm addicted to dolls.
Like many addictions, it began in childhood. My Daddy built me my own special "house" attached to our garage and there I happily spent hundreds of hours with my "babies." Had dozens of them, including some without arms and legs, and one without a head! (Talk about weird)
As an adult, the same feeling of excitement when I see a beautiful doll is still there. So my collection of fabulous babies has grown, and grown, and grown over the years and has even crossed the country with us when we moved back to the east.
My collection has tiny dolls, no more than three inches, to a three-foot babe in a lavender dress who is absolutely gorgeous. She was a gift to me from a close, dear friend. Some of my dolls have wild hair, others have long curls. Some wear "fru fru" dresses dripping with lace, mostly in pink, my favorite color, but there are also dolls donning other colored outfits. Most have dainty little shoes and one is so homely she steals your heart away.
My inner child is an ecstatic kid who finds tremendous contentment in the many dolls who share our home. With that admission out in the open, I'm happy to say I plan to share pictures of my doll babies in the Life's Little Luxuries column to the right. It might take me awhile to give each doll baby her moment of glory but I'm going to give it my best shot.