the Dalaverse

Little Sparrington ficlet for commodorified's consent challenge. Barely PG-13. Title from Ryan Adams.


( Answering Bell )

Auggggh ::dies of dust inhalation:: Aunt Nancy is coming to visit for the weekend, so I was badgered into changing the dolls' clothes. Which haven't been changed since...hmm, well, at least before Christmas, since none of them were in Christmas finery. Probably mid-fall, since Kirsten was wearing her sweater. Anyway, point being, they were DUSTY. Clouds of it came puffing from Addy's hair. They look nice in springy/summery things now, although I am terribly distressed that I had to lend Samantha's birthday pinafore to Kirsten. Her own has a little stain on it, and Samantha's looks all right, if a little too lacy and Victorian for a farm girl. Also, I nevereverEVER swap their clothing. It drives me nuts. I'm so anal about this that it's scary -- not even nightgowns, several of which look exactly the same, not even stockings, not even undergarments or jewelry. Hair ribbons I will sometimes let slide.

Why yes, I do know that I'm a freak.

Ah well. The girls are clean and fancy. I'm still searching for Kirsten's birthday wreath (I was going to lend her Samantha's flower ribbon-thingy, but it just made her look like a hippie) and I can't quite get Addy's hair to fit under her hat and Felicity's limbs kept randomly popping out of their sockets, but oh. Well. At least the accessories are evened out. Kirsten and Samantha have pinafores, Felicity and Addy have hats. I've decided that this is because they're going visiting, since they're standing (Samantha is too elderly to stand without falling over, and Kirsten's boots are too soft).

Alrighty. Time to remember how old I am.

The doll closet would be a perfect place to stash illicit items, you know. If I had any.