Suzie's Doll

It began with bathrobe shopping.  I have more difficulty finding a bathrobe I like for a price I like then, well, then I don't know what, but it's difficult.  Last time I needed a robe, after I'd worn myself out searching, I was stopped dead in my tracks by some fabric.  I couldn’t resist those kitty faces purring out at me from thick fleece, and I bought the requisite yardage.  Unfortunately, I used a new pattern and it ended up too big.  Still, it was warm and comfy, and I wore it for years.

This year I finally got tired of looking like a giant fleece bear with kitty cats all over her.  I wanted a change, something prettier and less gigantic.  I saw the softest, sweetest red flannel with leaves entwined all over it, and a few days later, and voila!  I’m wrapped in a cheerful, scarlet robe.  There were just enough scraps left over for a doll’s nightgown.

Have you ever sewn doll clothes?  The seams can be little tricky, picky things.  On the other hand, you don’t have to worry an armhole being a bit tight or loose.  A doll won’t complain if that stiff lace you’ve had for a million years is scratchy, and, most of all, a doll won’t care if you decide the task of elasticizing the wrists is too finicky.  In fact, if you don’t have a piece of fabric quite long enough for the sleeves, a doll won’t whine if they become 3/4 sleeves. What, a doll’s arms are going to get cold? I don’t think so.

During the course of making this little nightgown, the weirdest thing happened.  Okay, if you don’t sew, you might not think this is a big deal, but if you do sew, listen to this.  My spool of thread and my bobbin ran out at exactly the same time!  Not only that, they ran out just as I finished a seam.  I am not kidding!  I’d already bought a matching spool of thread, so I could fill a new bobbin and not miss a beat, but still, what are the odds?  They are astronomical, that’s what they are!  In fact, if anyone else has ever had this happen, let me know!

Anyway, do we have a doll that requires a nightie?  Yes, yes we do.! My Perfect Granddaughter loves her American Girl Doll.  (Hey, I’m a grandma; of course I got her one.) 

Suzie is an avid reader, as you can see below, and we don’t mind if she falls asleep with her face smushed against a book now and then, but, horrors!  Do you see Elizabeth Cole wedged between Suzie and the wall?  Elizabeth has fallen asleep in her clothes! 

 

  

She obviously needs this nightgown.  It will be folded, wrapped in tissue paper and make an appearance in Suzie’s Christmas stocking or perhaps under her Hanukkah menorah. 

 

 Yes, as I have mentioned before, we celebrate everything. We try to up our chances of Santa coming down the chimney or the vial of oil lasting seven extra days. I mean the chances of those things happening are barely greater than the chances of having your spool and bobbin simultaneously run out of thread.

Happy Season of Miracles to you!

Danger Days

When we returned from France, I had gained one pound, one (1) little pound. In a day, the pound was gone. I was so proud!  But now, the week before Thanksgiving, this is the danger zone. These are the days – more than my birthday, more than Christmas – when I pack it on.
A week ago Tuesday, in anticipation of my daughter's family's arrival and when I knew I had the time, I made Millie Kilmartin's gingerbread cookies. (butter cookies for Christmas; gingerbread for Thanksgiving) Millie was a wonderful friend from when we were both sentenced to live in Corning, N.Y. She made them for Christmas (no, no, Millie, butter cookies for Christmas), decorated them beautifully, hung them on their tree and gave them to friends and neighbors as gifts. They've contributed to my undoing, or more accurately, my expanding, even since. (I'm not mentioning dinner at the Brazilian steak house or lunch at Fudruckers or . . . well, never mind.) The cookies are damned addictive, and they disappear faster than a kiss on the wind.
In two days, the cookies were half gone. It's true that Steve helped me in decimating (or would it be halif-inating) them, but *hangs head in shame* I ate more than my share. I made a second batch on Friday. Stephanie, Scott, Pumpkin and Pie Boy (who now informs me he is NOT Pie Boy), arrived Saturday. Three days after that, there wasn't a crumb left for a mouse. (Not that we have mice. Elaine Cat takes care of that.) This is not a one-time occurrence, folks. It happens every year, year after year, constant as the sunrise. So, yes, I can anticipate the phenomenon, and, no, it doesn't seem to prevent the behavior. Or even slow it down. Fortunately, these gingerbread cookies are kind of a pain to make, so I won't have any more for a year.
You may ask, if you always eat so many and, furthermore, you don't seem to care to show any signs of self-control *my head droops in shame*, why don't you just double the recipe? Ahh, there's the rub (as in rub my bulging tummy with sugary yumminess).  It is the only recipe I've ever made that cannot be doubled.  Double it, and something goes wrong. It doesn't taste right. No, you have to make it 2 1/2 dozen at a time. *sighs* Just as well I suppose.
The cookies are gone.  All that's left is tomorrow's turkey and sweet potatoes and cranberry sauce and pie. To heck with shame. Face the danger, I say; face it and plow through it.

Millie Kilmartin's Gingerbread Cookies
(I've tweaked it a little; make it at your peril)
(in general, I don't get a big thrill out of cooking, so don't go expecting any more recipes from me.)

1 C sugar
1 Tbs ginger
1 tsp each cloves, cinnamon
1/4 C light corn syrup
1/4 C dark corn syrup
1/2 C water
1 C butter
Bring to a boil (in microwave is fine). Cool to room temperature.

Add (mixing can easily be done by hand with a big wooden spoon:
1 1/4 tsp baking soda
4 C flour
Chill. Then I set on counter for 45 min. Dough is VERY stiff.

Roll out (not too thick, not too thin) and cut into shapes. (We like gingerbread boys and girls, dinosaurs, hearts, cars, circles, turkeys, etc. We like to be able to choose.)

Bake in preheated 375 oven for 12 – 13 minutes.  They're really good iced, but they never last long enough at our house to decorate.

Now you'll have to excuse me. We have to have a birthday party for our new doll.