The old Confederate Rose has met an untimely end and the Mad for the Farthing Crowd mourns its passing. Planted before the Wiregrass Hitties were even splinters of the heart, it had grown taller than the house from three cuttings purchased as homely, naked “sticks” at the Christmas Bazaar. The memory made the Carvers laugh. The cotton rose was a haven for birds and insects, situated so the resident mockingbird could spew sass to folks both within the garden and without.  In the Summer, it offered fine shade to the dozy Doggery. The rose, truly not a rose at all, blossomed exuberantly and prolifically deep into Autumn with flowers as large as saucers.

Hitty Confederate Rose 4

Hedydd waits as the early morning sun urges the Cotton Rose to fully open.

The Hittys know a little more now, about the rhythm of the seasons here in the Wiregrass. Although they grieve for shrubbery now gone, they know that friends and neighbors can be counted on to provide cuttings, though they declare they would pool their pocket money to buy “sticks” at this year’s bazaar, so much is the Cotton Rose missed.

Snip had her first outing, visiting the “We Piddle Around” Theater for an evening of music and story-tellin’. “Come Home, It’s Suppertime” is presented twice a year to sold out houses in the old WPA courthouse in Brundidge, Alabama. Dinner is served family-style on large tables settled into thick sawdust on the floor. The play begins by defining the distinction between “Dinner” and “Supper”. Local folks spin tales ’bout sitting up with the dead, being particular, hog-butchering, cotton-picking and moonshine. Snip liked the stories about store-bought mens drawers most of all and agreed that the mercantile having undergarments on display for all to see, including women and young’uns, certainly was evidence of a community going to Hell in a hand-basket.


Piddlin' before the show.

Piddlin’ before the show. (Makin’ sure our own hand-basket was properly equipped for an evening at the theatre and our own home-made drawers were daintily concealed.)


A friend loveth at all times and a brother is born for adversity.

Proverbs 17:17

Grateful to have escaped therapy at St. Brutal’s and equally thankful that her scant hospital gown allowed for modesty, Hedydd prepared for a minor repair of her wounded shoulder. The little bumps and bruises that scored her wood she knew were marks of character, and she would wear them proudly, but an arm that regularly launched itself into space, skittering into odd corners, must be mended.

However, taking the measure of her fellow patients, she thought there must have been a mistake or a change of plan. This looked more like a maternity ward rather than a surgery. It was crowded, but not uncomfortable, and the company welcome to the infirm Hedydd.

Birthing Suite 2

Birthing Suite

It seems that Hedydd’s misfortune, and the time it afforded The Carvers, had led to a great spate of births in the Mad for the Farthing Crowd. She was surrounded by new sisters, some whose labor had lasted many, many years. Yet, here they were at last. Some still struggled to be be free of the blank. Some bore but a portion of their paint. Despite their age, they were all so young. In a sweet moment, Hedydd considered the adventures these youngsters would soon encounter as they began their lives in earnest. A Hitty’s life is full of daring exploits, exciting travels as well as kind friends and kindred spirits. Here were sisters born of and for adversity. Hedydd welcomed each to the family.

It is sadly true that many of these Hittys have languished in the carving bag for many years. It is also true that some may yet return incomplete. Progress has thankfully been made, however. The newest members of the MFC are: Back row, left to right: “As Yet Unnamed”, Snip, Livy, Hannalore, “As Yet Unnamed II” and Süßigkeit. Front row, left to right: Peg Isu and Hitty Hedydd.

On a bright, beautiful day in October, Hedydd planned a wonderful afternoon at Landmark Park’s annual Farm Day. She was so looking forward to the glittering golden jars of cane syrup fresh from the enormous kettle, the antique tractors, noisy chickens and lively Bluegrass music drifting from the gazebo. She had a spanking new pinny made especially for the occasion and her bonnet had been made over with new flowers and ribbons. She thought herself quite the cutest thing in wooden boots.

Despite her fine opinion of herself, it truly was not pride occurring before destruction, nor a haughty spirit before this particular fall. Poor Hedydd found her small world and her small wooden body turned ’round ‘n’ ’round and upside down as the result of two vehicles trying to occupy the same space at the same moment. Her plans for the afternoon were dashed…her spirits, naturally, were not.


Tail Over Teakettle!


All those involved continue to regain health, some more cheerily than others. After an initial good report, Hedydd was found needing a small surgery and is recovering well.


Try as she might, and we all know a determined Hitty can work her will in a mighty way and with remarkable results, Hedydd could not urge the Sun to linger in the sky a moment longer, so that she might view the eclipse. She had prepared and anticipated, but her plans came to naught. The Sun did as it would, sinking into the clouds, traveling West.

Not wanting to peer directly into the Sun, Hedydd prepared an aid to viewing the Eclipse.

Not wanting to peer directly into the Sun, Hedydd prepared an aid to viewing the Eclipse.


Alas, clouds obscured the view of  the barely bitten Sun.

Alas, clouds obscured the view of a barely bitten Sun.

Not to be outdone, Hedydd, too, has a new celebratory pinnie.

Not to be outdone, Hedydd, too, has a new celebratory pinnie.


Miss Hickory snuggles among the warm jars of pumpkin butter, fresh from the water bath.

Miss Hickory snuggles among the warm jars of spicy pumpkin butter, fresh from the water bath.

Hitty Hannah's Journal

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Penny the traveling clothespin doll shares her adventures at home and abroad.

Hitty at Rose Cottage

"Have you never felt a doll's wish?" ~ Rumer Godden

"Have you never felt a doll's wish?" ~ Rumer Godden


historical dolls, sewing, carving, travel and playing around


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