Granny Paper Doll

I was a fan of the "Granny" paper doll
for the same reason that I liked
"Shirley Temple" --
because she was 18" tall!
None of my other paper dolls
approached this height!

Also just like Shirley Temple,
Granny had such vividly colored outfits!

Shirley Temple Paper Doll

All that is left of my 1950s,
18" tall Shirley Temple Paper Doll Set.
Somehow or other, these remnants escaped the trash can
and were found in a box of old papers at my mom's house.
Not sure what happened to the doll, and cannot explain
why all these dresses are torn in the same spot. Hmmm???

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On Etsy and Ebay
I found these vintage paper dresses
that reveal some of the details missing on mine.

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In 1986, 1988 & 1991,
Dover issued these reprint booklets of
paper dolls and outfits from the 1930s.

Not forgetting "Granny"

Two People, Never Younger

Riding the Tour Bus in Montreal ~ September 2023
~ then 2023 / now 2026 ~
~ Happy Anniversary! ~

"Sit by my side, and let the world slip:
we shall ne'er be younger."
Shakespeare
from The Taming of the Shrew
(Induction, 2, 146-47)

“Two people pulling each other into Salvation
is the only theme I find worthwhile."
E. M. Forster
from his Commonplace Book

A Circle of Bronze

". . . the summer moved slowly
in a quarter circle of bronze." (84)

~ July 15 ~

"The sky was turning red and the blue hills pulled up in front of us when we stopped to have supper. I hated to go inside and miss the beautiful changes. . . . it looks like someone spilled paint on the mountains and set the rim of the sun on fire." (159)

~ August 30 ~
A few months back ~ December 2024

both passages from the novel
I Will Go Barefoot All Summer For You, Toby Bright
by Katie Letcher Lyle (1938 - 2016)

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More favorite lines from
I Will Go Barefoot All Summer For You, Toby Bright:

Going Barefoot
Summer Books
Sparkle Plenty
Dried Roses
Circle of Bronze

Dried Roses

Summer Sequence
from
I Will Go Barefoot All Summer For You, Toby Bright
by
Katie Letcher Lyle (1938 - 2016)

For me, the nostalgia of this coming - of - age novel goes back to the summer of 1976, when I enrolled in a week - long meet - the - author seminar at Lindenwood College with guest speaker Katie Letcher Lyle. I could not believe my good fortune!

I Will Go Barefoot, featuring 13 - year - old Jessie, takes place in a small Virginia town during the early 1950s. I grew up a decade later in Missouri, and was already nineteen when I first read this novel. Still, our experiences were not so different.

In a touching and excellent review on goodreads, Anna Bowling decribes the novel as "a poignant slice of life look at the transition from child to young woman. . . . Set during the postwar years of the Truman presidency, this story has the feel of a medieval ballad, the lazy sprawl of late summer, and the lacy veil between innocence and lessons learned."

In a story filled with gorgeous natural description, Jessie marks the passing summer with repeated references to lilacs, honeysuckle, and roses.

32: The smells of honeysuckle and wild roses and tar, the cool wind sound and the droning of bees, the waterfall sunshine in cascades, lay heavy upon this day, upon all the world, it seemed . . .

97: I closed my eyes and tried to keep everything just as it was, to remember for always church, its smell, this most beautiful summer. . . .

102 - 03: I tried to suck in as many good smells as I could. The summer had all been like that . . . roses so lovely my throat ached knowing they had already begun to die at the moment they were most beautiful, honeysuckle so sweet-smelling it made my stomach churn, grass green enough to hurt my eyes, and leaves so tenderly delicate they could not possibly last.

"I wish it could be summer all the time, don't you?"
I began to agree, found that I didn't. . . .
I only wished it would smell like summer all the time. But that would probably be boring. What made lilacs so marvelous was that they were only here for about a week, and you waited for them and got ready for them, and maybe even the getting ready was better than the lilacs themselves. Lilacs were even better than honeysuckle, which lasted nearly all summer. Maybe that was why.

106, 158: Summer hurt too much, starting with its lilacs that were dead so soon, its roses that were gone in a day, its moment of Toby Bright. It occurred to me at that instant that I was very tired of it, tired even of the honeysuckle and the roses. It was time for a change. I did not wish it could be summer all the time all, was anxious for burning leaves and red-gold color to replace the endless greens; longed for even the dull blue-whiteness of November . . . some distant lavender winter day.

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I realize this kind of seems like a book post,
but it's also a nature post & and an end - of summer post.
Here are a few more posts following my re-read of
I Will Go Barefoot All Summer For You, Toby Bright:

Going Barefoot
Summer Books
Sparkle Plenty
Dried Roses
Circle of Bronze

Sparkle Plenty

A Flawless Sparkle Plenty

Continuing the topic of mid - century modern
rubber faced toys like Blue Eyed Bear:
there was also Sparkle Plenty.
I have no recollection of this doll from my childhood but learned about it from a reference in the beloved coming of age novel I Will Go Barefoot All Summer For You, Toby Bright by Katie Letcher Lyle. The main character, thirteen - year - old Jessie Preston wins a Sparkle Plenty doll as a prize on the "Kiddi Karnival Quiz Show" and her cousin Frances obtains one by shoplifting (14).

The fact that they stole the doll from the store, and that they only took things "small enough to be hidden," makes me wonder if it was one of these miniature versions, barely the size of a thimble:

A trademark of the standard size Sparkle Plenty's was “magic, lifelike skin” (apparently for the body but not the face). Many of these specimens survive today as collector's items but the manufacturers had to discontinue use and revert back to regular doll rubber because the new material darkened and deteriorated. In the novel, Jessie and Frances are growing up in the early 1950s, so perhaps the Sparkle Plenty fad had passed by the time my sisters and I came along. I asked them if they remembered:

Di: I've never heard of Sparkle Plenty, but I found this picture of her wearing gloves, like a scientist or something. Haha! Oh, I see: it's to cover the discolored hands!

Peg: No, I haven't heard of her either, but I looked up her sad backstory, with her odd, homely parents. I do remember some dolls having more lifelike textures, softer than the hard plastic, so this must have been an early attempt.

Kit: Odd coincidence—I’d pretty much say that I NEVER think of the Dick Tracy cartoon, but last on Pawn Stars a woman brought in her grandfather’s tin toy trucks and cars, painted with Dick Tracy’s face at the wheel and other Dick Tracy characters in the passenger seats and looking out the windows.

Then this morning I follow Peg's lead on Sparkle Plenty's backstory, only to find out that Sparkle Plenty and her parents originated as Dick Tracy cartoon characters!

Di: Wow! The universe aligned!

Kit: Yeah! I guess it’s a message to start paying more attention to Dick Tracy!

Peg: Do you remember the old guy next door the summer when we lived in that cabin in St. Charles, on the backside of Blanchett Park? He said his girlfriend was the Moonmaid from Dick Tracy and when the moon came out, her skin turned blue.

Di: Yes, I remember him. Did not remember the Dick Tracy connection!

Kit: I had forgotten that! But we did meet some oddballs on that street! They probably said the same about us! Ha!

Peg: True Kit. "Those crazy people who crammed 2 adults and 5 kids in a one room cabin with no air conditioning, sleeping on janky cots that kept ripping."

Kit: One night when I was at Aaron’s back in June, he and Pam drove me all around St. Charles, looking at all the new Lindenwood construction, old favorite restaurants, etc. — and trying to find “the shack.” One small house seemed a likely possibility, but we couldn’t be sure. [Or could we? More to follow . . . ]

Blue Eyed Bear

One of many rubber faced teddy bear designs
created by Rushton Toys,
with expressions ranging from manic to depressive.

None of these look exactly like mine, but you get the idea.

For some reason these sad - faced, blue eyeshadowed bears were a thing in the early 1960s, and we picked the one you see above to give to our baby brother Aaron for his 1st or 2nd birthday.

Why would we choose such a gloomy guy? Maybe we felt sorry for his pathetic little pout or fell for his chubby little cheeks. Whatever the appeal, we adored the sorrowful little stuffie, and he remains in the family to this day -- over 60 years later -- in my care. Somewhere along the way, Aaron outgrew Blue Eyed Bear -- as we always called him -- so I took over the responsibility.

He will never be a happy teddy, but that's okay. He will always have a home in the toy chest, and it's fun to bring him out on Aaron's birthday and say, "Hey, rememember me?!"

Look!
My Cousin Cindy has one too -- named "Happy"

Coming next time: another vintage toy:
Sparkle Plenty

Throwback Super Ellie

Looking over Ellie's birthday pics,
we came across all these sweet
throwbacks from summers past:

Superbaby! ~ Eleanor Rose McCartney

The last Spring we lived in Indiana (2022), I took Ellie for a lot of walks around the neighborhood and decorated our famous fence post for Memorial Day with a red, white, and blue sash that I had made as a present for my mother many years before, when I was in highschool. She wore it faithfully as a multipurpose accessory for at least 25 years, from the mid 1970s until the late 1990s. Look closely, and you'll see that she has it tied around her waist as a belt:

*****************

Here's Ellie a year later (Spring 2023)
sharing the same expression as her Hoppa . . .

. . . and her Amma . . .

One of my pool friends asked if Ellie and I
always wear the same expression:

We just said, yes, of course!

And the same hairstyle!

We've been practicing from way back!

The Good Ship Eleanor

Happy ~ Birthday
Eleanor ~ Rose ~ McCartney!

I was so excited to find out that one of
the Boston Tea Party ships was called The Eleanor!
(Along with The Beaver & The Dartmouth)

Here she is fore to aft.
See the blue figurehead down on the bow?
Here's a close - up:

The Eleanor by night, in Boston Harbor

Good Ship Eleanor Gift Ideas

And yet another inspiring
Eleanor - themed gift idea!

Happy 6th Birthday Ellie!

Onion Sauce!

Still Life with Onions, 1889
Vincent van Gogh, 1853 – 1890

If you need a startling insult, how about the expression hurled by "the impatient and contemptuous Mole, who trotted along the side of the hedge chaffing [teasing] the other rabbits as they peeped hurriedly from their holes to see what the row was about. "Onion-sauce! Onion-sauce!" he remarked jeeringly, and was gone before they could think of a thoroughly satisfactory reply. Then they all started grumbling at each other. "How stupid you are! Why didn’t you tell him—" "Well, why didn’t you say—" “You might have reminded him—" and so on, in the usual way; but, of course, it was then much too late, as is always the case.

from The Wind in the Willows (8 - 9, emphasis added)
by Kenneth Grahame
illustrated by Arthur Rackham

Mole's taunt implies either that the rabbits are country bumpkins or that, if they are not careful, they are likely to be caught and eaten with a side of onion sauce. Either way, it'a good dismissive remark to have in your repertoire. Onion sauce!

The rabbits' response -- or lack thereof -- is similar to John Steinbeck's experience of being detained at the American - Canadian border and having to endure a pile of hassle. He doesn't sass back, but later . . .

"Before I went to sleep I went over all the things I wished I had
said . . . and some of them were incredibly clever and cutting"

from Travels With Charley (69)

[cf. L'esprit de l'escalier]

Tears & Crying

“Life is like an onion; you peel it off one layer at a time, 
and sometimes you weep.” ― Carl Sandburg 

Facebook & Fortnightly
More Van Gogh: FN ~ KL ~ QK

Mid - August Sadness

Grasshopper (Sprinkhaan) 1918
Anna Julia "Julie" de Graag (1877–1924)
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

A phase of August sadness -- what Emily Dickinson calls "further in summer" -- is now upon us: too late to say midsummer, too early to say late summer. Birdsong has given way to insect chorus, and beneath our feet, somewhere in the grass, an entire, nearly invisible civilization is celebrating the seasonal change. The crickets have their own ceremonial customs and canticles, unobtrusive, gradual, gentle. No obstrusive ordinances required, only the ancient -- or as Dickinson puts it, "antiquest" -- enhancement of Nature.

But what about that "Enlarging Loneliness"? Surely the lament of summer's impending end is experienced not only (if at all) by the insects; but more likely as a pathetic fallacy within our human hearts. Our existential sadness is mitigated only by "Druidic Difference," a sense that our ancient globe is rounding toward autumn, inevitably as ever.

Indeed, in another week or so,
August will be "burning low":

Further in Summer than the Birds –
Pathetic from the Grass –
A minor Nation celebrates
Its unobtrusive Mass.

No Ordinance be seen –
So gradual the Grace
A gentle Custom it becomes –
Enlarging Loneliness –

Antiquest felt at Noon –
When August burning low
this spectral Canticle
Repose to typify –

Remit as yet no Grace –
No furrow on the Glow,
But a Druidic Difference
Enhances Nature now –

Artist: Janie Olsen

Again, assisted by insects -- flies & bees --
Dickinson captures our autumnal anguish:

If you were coming in the Fall
I'd brush the Summer by
With half a smile, and half a spurn
As Housewives do, a Fly

If I could see you in a year
I'd wind the months in balls
And put them each in separate Drawers
For fear the numbers fuse

If only Centuries, delayed
I'd count them on my hand
Subtracting, til my fingers dropped
Into Van Dieman's Land

If certain, when this life was out
That yours and mine, should be
I'd toss it yonder, like a Rind
And take Eternity

But, now, uncertain of the length
Of this, that is between
It goads me, like the Goblin Bee
That will not state its sting

~Both poems by Emily Dickinson (KL ~ FN ~ QK)

Artist: Katrina Sesum

Are not these owls superb
portrayls of Druidic Difference?
Click here for more superb owls!

Sara Teasdale: Stars Forever

Happy Birthday
to Missouri Poet Sara Teasdale
(born in St. Louis, August 8, 1884 - died January 29, 1933):

"There will be stars forever; while we sleep."

Photo credit: Man Of La Book: A Bookish Blog

Sarah Trevor Teasdale
[Christened Sarah Trevor Teasdale,
but later dropped the final "h"]

I would have stood on your hot
Missouri porch for hours,
holding my bouquet of flowers
to show you that my thirst
for your affection was preferable
to suitors Lindsay and Ernst.

Although the bright Missouri sun
would the flowers wilt, I will stay
Till you kissed me away.
A puff across your hand,
direct to me, to show you understand,
or is your sweet breath to send
my fate into the winds.

by Robert Manchester (1943 - 2022)
Read more at Your Daily Poem & "Colors of Summer"

Collected Poems

More poetry by Teasdale on FN & QK
And on THEINKBRAIN: Teasdale Poetry Blog

Summer Castles

Psalm Concerning The Castle

Let me be at the place of the castle.
Let the castle be within me.
Let it rise foursquare from the moat's ring.
Let the moat's waters reflect green plumage of ducks,
let the shells of swimming turtles break the surface
or be seen through the rippling depths.

Let horsemen be stationed at the rim of it,
and a dog, always alert on the brink of sleep.
Let the space under the first storey be dark,
let the water lap the stone posts,
and vivid green slime glimmer upon them;
let a boat be kept there.

Let the caryatids of the second storey
be bears upheld on beams that are dragons.
On the parapet of the central room,
let there be four archers,
looking off to the four horizons.
Within, let the prince be at home,
let him sit in deep thought, at peace,
all the windows open to the loggias.

Let the young queen sit above, in the cool air,
her child in her arms;
let her look with joy at the great circle,
the pilgrim shadows,
the work of the sun and the play of wind.

Let her walk to and fro.
Let the columns uphold the roof,
let the storeys uphold the columns,
let there be dark space below the lowest floor,
let the castle rise foursquare out of the moat,
let the moat be a ring and the water deep,
let the guardians guard it,
let there be wide lands around it,
let that country where it stands be within me,
let me be where it is.

Denise Levertov (1923 – 1997)
More on QK & FN

The Olana House Museum
Home of Artist Frederic Church (1826 – 1900)
Hudson River Valley

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Edward Hopper (1882 - 1967)
at the Pavillon de Flore, Paris

Le Pavillon de Flore
Summery View ~ 1909
More info

Le Pont Royal
Wintry View ~ 1909
More info

Dive In!

. . . continued

Judge ~ July 1934

Magazine Covers
by John Holmgren (1897-1963)

Judge ~ July 1936

"First the air is blue and then
it is bluer and then green and then
black I am blacking out and yet
my mask is powerful
it pumps my blood with power
the sea is another story
the sea is not a question of power
I have to learn alone
to turn my body without force
in the deep element. . . ."

from "Diving Into the Wreck"
by Adrienne Rich (1929 - 2012)

Springboard (2015)
by Charlotte Evans (b 1981)

I especially like Springboard because
it reminds me of this long-time favorite:

Romantic Enters World
by Richard Stine

Additional Connections

"The Swimming Pool"

"The Summer You Learned to Swim"
by Michael Simms

The "Lost Lagoon" Challenge

Swimming Pool"
by James Arthur [not struck by lightning]