Yesterday Daughter 2 emailed me. Did I still have any toys from when she was young? Because Granddaughter Wizz had to do a school project on it. She was sure that the answer would be No.

As it happens, although I have ditched vast amounts of stuff, I have kept a few things from the past … including Dolly Christine.

Now Dolly Christine has form. Daughter 2 was devoted to her when she herself was 2. She couldn’t say ‘Christine’ at the time so she has always been ‘Dolly Tistine’. And she took her on the plane when we came on leave from Nigeria, and flew to Northern Ireland to be with Hub’s Mum.

It was in the 70s, at the height of the troubles, and security was very tight. So we were not surprised when airport security in Belfast wanted to go through our bags and baggage and just check that these English-speaking people were who we said we were…

What was unexpected however, was that they asked for Dolly Christine. They then proceeded to pull off her arms and legs and look inside.

The look on D2’s face! In those days she was a scrawny little thing (she’d been repeatedly ill in Nigeria) with white-blonde hair and big blue eyes, and she had this habit of staring at you, unblinkingly. (Exactly like her daughter now, come to think of it…)

The Irish security were lovely, actually, despite the state of high alert. They put back the arms and legs and gave it back to her as fast as they could 8|

Anyway, I had plenty of time to remember all this because although I know I have kept Dolly Christine, could I find her??? I searched. All the boxes. All the drawers. Under the beds. In the beds. On top of the cupboards. We moved the sofa bed so I could get into a cupboard. And I had the 2 big boxes in the entrance hall out 3 TIMES and still couldn’t find her. In the process I started putting away my summer clothes and getting out the warm ones …

Where on earth could the wretched thing have gone?? Ridiculous! How come I can’t find her in a small flat?? |-|

In the end I sat down, had a calming cup of redbush and then I went back into the hall. This time I pulled the boxes right out and took everything out. And there, right at the bottom, in a box wrongly labelled, I found her … along with Rahila, Beebee Monkee, and Mr Owl.




    1. Our neighbour came downstairs at one point as I emerged with back-ache from the latest search. ‘Why do your kids always want something that’s at the bottom of the box??!’ I said. He shrugged his shoulders ‘that’s families’!


  1. A good choice of name for dolly christine. 😉

    I can imagine the horror of having dollys arms and legs pulled off!

    I used to favour black dollys as a child as they seemd more exotic, my favourite wore a grass skirt.

    Its great that you found them at last!


    1. I still have a black doll I was given by my uncle at the age of 2 – I mean I was 2, not him!! – and he too has lost an eye so granddaughter and I put a fetching piratical eye patch on him!


      1. I like the idea of the patch! I just wouldn’t be able to throw something like that away.
        Im left wondering what name you picked for a male black doll? quite tough I would have thought!
        my doll in the grass skirt was called Lulu.


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