Saturday, 20 September 2014


I'm Timothy, but I like to be called Timmy. Do you like my new clothes?

 This is my nursery school uniform. I just started to go there last week and Angelina, Teddy and Connor are going too.  It is called St. Mossy Bear's Nursery School. Mossy is a really, truely bear and he says he is the patron saint of naughty bears and toddlers. He lives in Hertfordshire and lots of people just call him Mossy, or Mr. Mossy, but I know he's a saint because he has to live with other, bossy bears who think they are better than he is, but he never gets cross.

I'm in the Puppy class and so is Teddy but Angelina and Connor are a bit older than us, so they are in in the Bear Cub class. At least, Connor will be when he comes home. He's visitng his twin brother, Lucas, who lives with St. Mossy.

Our uniform was specially made for us by Lucas' very clever Auntie Michelle. Connor is going to be the head boy, so he is to have a special sweater with a picture of Mr. Mossy on the front, but I like my puppy picture best.

Look! This is supposed to be our lawn but Dada has not been able to cut the grass or pull the weeds up because the builders were busy here. Sh! Don't tell, but I like that dandelion clock and I'm going to blow on it to see what o'clock it is soon.

Do you know, there's a mole living underneath the grass? This pile of earth is his front door. I hope Dada doesn't flatten it so the mole has to dig a new one.

Bye for now!
   Timmy xxx


To me, Timmy is a special toddler.

When I was in hospital in France, there was a great deal more to do in the way of occupational therapy than here in the UK.  I joined the doll repair group  - of course! There was a huge selection of old dolls in need of a fresh start in life and of reject new dolls, donated by factories. Some of us chose to work on the dolls, other people made clothes and yet more made wooden doll furniture. We were each allowed to take home what ever we had made or worked on, whether the project was completed or not.

Imagine my surprise when I saw a familiar little head, though bald and without features, sticking up in a plastic box that was filled with a mis-matched assortment of dolls. I unearthed the doll from the tangle and, there he was, a little fair-skinned toddler with a huge hole in the top of his head. I started by trying girl-style wigs but, despite the lack of features, 'she' clearly disliked them, so I trimmed one down and Timothy emerged, demanding green eyes, rosy cheeks and freckles.

He can't rival the work of more experienced Sasha artists, such as Shelly Baxter, but I was quite pleased with his final look.

Un grand merci a Marcie Le Bec pour tout votre aide en creante le petit Timmy!

And a further thanks to Michelle for providing the uniforms for this year's intake of little students at St. Mossy's!

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Cati and her cat sweater.

Our poor little house is still not ready for full occupation. The corner below the chimney has been worked on, but is not yet certain that it is absolutely stable.

The underpinning took much longer than expected and, to be sure that we don't waste time and money trying to put it in order, we have been asked to allow another 3 months before carrying out any interior work. So, we are living between our bedrooms and a little caravan we've borrowed, meaning most of my Sashas are still squashed in boxes.

We do have a couple of new girls - one is mine and one my mother's but want to wait to introduce them properly at a later date. The windy weather will not show them off to their best and indoor photos are not possible. None the less, I just can't wait any longer to play Sashas here, so I sneaked into the off-limits guest bedroom and grabbed a little lady who has been waiting a long time to meet you all. She is so keen to be a real Bryn Derw kid that she doesn't mind if her photos are less than perfect.

Meet Cati.

She is a 1001 Anika from the later Gotz production and was bought for a little girl who has since begun to prefer electronic gadgets to her dolls, so has moved in with me. She also has brothers, Tomos, known as Twm, and Sion. Their names are taken from the famous Welsh Wizard, Twm Sion Cati. Cati Jones was his mother and, presumably because his father was unknown, he took Cati for his last name.
Cati is usually the abbreviation of Catrin, the Welsh form of Catherine.

Cati has not had clothes of her own for some time and was thrilled when this little sweater arrived from Shelly, along with a pair of black cords. The heather coloured sweater has dear little kittens on it, just right for Cati! She borrowed a pair of black Boneka shoes and happily topped her autumn outfit off with her very own Hattie hat. However, we must apologise for her lack of socks, the Bryn Derw wardrobe is a little thin on accessories.

Cati has the best eyes I have seen on these pale vinyl girls. Though they lack the depth and have a less realistic look than those of the pre-tampa days at Trendon, they are even, have not faded and are a lovely colour.

She also has beautiful hair. It is thick, shiny and a natural shade of brown. One of my (few) criticisms of the Trendon dolls is their tendency to have too much curl in their hair which can make them appear to have had a perm - not age appropriate, to my mind. Cati's hair is perhaps a little too long as she came with braids, which require considerable length to look right, but it could, and might, be trimmed a little.

Originally, R sent her dolls here for safe-keeping. Her brothers are doll tormentors! I bought them from her a few months later because she wanted money to buy an X-box so, technically, Cati, Sion and Tomos are now Bryn Derw kids but, should the technology phase begin to lose appeal in the future, they will return to R.
 In the meantime, I am enjoying having Cati, the little cat-loving lady, to stay with us here and, if they need it, she and her brothers will have a home for life at Bryn Derw.

Please forgive the poor photos. I hope to feature a doll at least once a week until we are more comfortably settled in our house and can tell our next Bryn Derw story.