Even though I have not written about it, I have been actively enjoying my new companion. It is the habit of writing again that is lacking. My dolly play is making a slow but steady return. I am finding that my new companion is very much different sort of companion doll. She is very different from all of the dolls I have had. She has an intense, stately, calming personality. If that makes any sense. I seem to derive strength from her.
Naming was difficult. I felt as though nothing was fitting her and endless name searching was proving to be taxing. Too many choices, too many reminders of people and dolls already known. She needed something that was different to my ear. Yet the unusual names were missing the mark too. She is the woman who roams the highland and moors. She can’t be bothered with finery, although I may be an influence to get her into a lovely gown someday. She most definitely Scottish. Of that I have no doubt.
Maris (THE SEA) was a name that kept coming back to me. I liked the sound of it, liked the way it suited her. But is was rather plain. I had tried a Scottish name, Alesta to go with it. Alesta Maris, thinking it sounded grand, but that was the problem. She didn’t like it and it was impossible for my husband to pronounce the name the same way twice. It was in cooking one evening that I saw the name on the bag of potatoes that made it clear…Piper Maris! Of course, we all nodded our heads in agreement, what a perfect name. Husband was happy about naming a doll after his beloved potato, I was amused that the “potato wife” (as my other blog is named), now has a potato named companion, and well, it seemed that Piper Maris smiled at our silliness and accepted the name with grace.
I went through and sorted everything I could that fit, which was very little. Her chest is larger that my old SD Evie, so the few remaining dresses that I kept do not fit. She is at least as big around as my Schoenhut, but of course cannot wear Rosies clothes, even temporarily as they are much too short in arms and hem length. Never mind about the childishness of a little girls clothes on a grown woman.
And so we have merely been keeping company as I take my time getting to know her and find her style. She doesn’t were makeup, doesn’t seem to be into fashion at all. I am beginning to see her as a simple loving woman, wearing bohemian style clothing.
I am afraid that I do not have any good photo’s of her. She is so much more in person and either she is not photogenic or my camera is being stubborn because I keep taking the flash off. My camera is a point and shoot which means it hates anything it cannot preset itself with. It refuses to take photos as my old camera did. Once I get some clothes made, I will try for a proper photoshoot with my old camera.
Piper Maris in a terrible mixture of anything-that-fits-sorta-kinda. Yes, it’s embarrassing to show.
She is wearing my china doll’s underskirt, Rosie’s crochet dress, Evie’s old jacket and young Evie’s thigh-high socks. Yes, it is cringe worthy. But I have so few pieces of fabric left, that I don’t want to sew anything up until I feel sure of her style.
In other area’s, I have begun to push myself to enjoy the little lovely outdoor episodes of Olivia the Pocket Pig as my husband calls her. We went to Paisley (yes, the town in Scotland that originated the famous paisley print) as this is where we are moving in October. We have often shopped here and both of us have our bus and train hub in the town centre. We went to the Abbey and then to a pub for our outing last Saturday. Olivia made her debut.
Have Pig, will travel.
Leaving Renfrew and off to Paisley.
Olivia liked the scale model of the abbey much better than the abbey itself. She likes being bigger whenever she can.
Although it was dark, grey and raining (as always) she insisted on taking a photo, although she was unable to pose properly since her bow was constantly blinding her ability to see whether the camera was pointing at her or not.
Abbey’s aren’t really Olivia’s thing, but pubs are.
And especially the food. This is the one time where a food menu is welcomed to be bigger than she is.
And a Guiness may also be big. In fact, she rather enjoyed the bigness.
Luncheon was a lovely haggis on burger with whisky sauce and chips. Oliva insisted she is still a vegetarian and ate the chips and left the haggis to me. Which I really do like.
Yes, pub life is the life for Olivia.
With a full belly and wet snout, she was soon passed out in piggy oblivion.
We both enjoyed having Olivia with us so much, we have a feeling she is about to have more adventures ahead.