Yackandandah again, out the back of Granny's pub. My other Grandma did up this doll and it was donated to the Yack Mardi-Gras. I remember the day... brass band... big parade through the town... I was just or nearly five. The doll had a sash like a real 'Miss Somewhere'. Miss Yackandandah. I don't remember the details, but Granny must have had a raffle which I WON!!! So, we took Tanya home and she was relegated to the top of the cupboard in the spare room, because she was special. Ear-marked 'for later on'.
Not long after, we had a house fire in the spare room, from an electrical fault. Tanya bit the big one. I clearly remember my dream (nightmare) of her going up in flames and I woke screaming and calling her name.
Ross wonders if that's where it all began.
My first death. Now I see this photo, she looks to be shrouded and I was amazed to see that she isn't the elegant, beautiful, mature woman of a doll that I remembered, but an ordinary girl. I love her just the same.
I got very sick after that and was given a new doll when I got out of hossie, I named her Danielle and thought of her as Tanya's daughter.
4 comments:
HA!
All what began? You're obsession with exceptionally spooky toys?
Hang on.
Yackandanda had a MARDI GRAS??!!
Miss Fire Damage, maybe.
She does look kinda smoky.
Hmmm... obsession is his take on the topic. I call it 'interest', and perhaps he'd say it extends to morbidity. I think it's nothing. Just a modern girl doing her typical thing. Bodiless Barbies are all the rage. It's the new conservative.
Weren't the good old days (when the whole town turned out for a 'do') terrific? And you suffered with the smelly old men in the rotating waltzes just so you could dance with some spunk you'd looked at from afar. Every town had a brass band.
I was little when that all stopped so don't thin I wasn't. I'm not that old. Not really.
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