Cinders....

During our "last" snowstorm on Friday, giving us another 6 or 7 inches (on top of the 24 we already had), I started working on another angel. I never know what they will be until they are finished. And I never name them until they...or something clicks and I just know. Since I only make angels, I try to think of a name and specialty that might be inspiring, rewarding, or a special memory...or maybe just make you smile. So I finished this doll and dressed her. But she looked too clean. But what had me stumped, was that the look on her face was definitely guilty. But of what?

Saturday's weather turned out to be "good enough" to boil some of the sap we collected. Don't get excited...It's on a very small scale, just enough to give us a taste. But it's always quite a production with kettles boiling over an open fire... When my husband came through the door with soot on his clothes...I instantly knew who this doll was...

Of course! She's Little Polly Flinders. Who remembers the Mother Goose Nursery Rhyme?

Little Polly Flinders
Sat among the cinders
Warming her pretty little toes;
Her mother came and caught her,
Whipped her little daughter
For spoiling her nice new clothes.

I can still hear my mother's elevated tone and emphasis on the word whipped. How about you?