over hills, mr. underhill

(after breaking to put the girls to sleep...)

I think that John should someday tell you all about his wonderful Grandma Mildred Heck (the very one after whom Millie is named). She was as interesting as her name, and then some.

Anyway, thanks to her great love of Barbies and collecting dolls in general, I have spent a large portion of this past week with my thoughts and tasks wrapped around Barbie's impossible frame while selling some of Grandma Heck's vintage collection over the Ebay circuit. People behave unbelievably foolishly sometimes, and a few have exchanged a limb for one of these plastic pieces draped (or not-so-draped) in costumes of their choice.

One desperate man in Scotland looking for the perfect birthday gift paid top dollar for a Scottish Barbie doll. I suppose it's not enough just to be immersed in a rich culture; one has to collect cheap American imitations of the same.

(But to be fair, the Scottish Barbie looks pretty darn cool.)

So, my double-deep stack of books and too-new guitar await as I tap out descriptions of Barbie's unique marvels.

No longer. I'm off.