In the Good Old Summertime

When you live in the woods, out in the boonies, with no immediate neighbors and significant acreage to be responsible for, things like laundry and dusting furniture take a back seat to more pressing pursuits, like fixing potholes, salvaging logs for firewood, or when Princess Cupcake is around, making Playdoh chipmunks and playing dolls with my granddaughter.

Picture this: At my dining room table, a 20 year old nondescript stuffed bear named Hazel sits down to a dinner consisting of a pink glazed doughnut, strawberry ice cream cone, carrot, peas, and potato chips (all play food, thankfully) served up on my fine china and silver, all while dressed in one of my old flannel baby nighties, Cupcake's plaid shorts, and rabbit ears with a pink satin sash off an old formal tied jauntily as a scarf around his neck. (Yes, Hazel is a he. Don't ask. Pictures and the full story on another day.)

Cupcake has always enjoyed playing dressup. At the ripe old age of 2, she broke her elbow while running in a pair of high heels. At 3, subjecting the dog to her particular brand of fun was a favorite pastime. When she learned how to dress herself, my vintage clothing and lingerie collection became free game. (You can only imagine the fun a 4 year old can have with an old corset.) Now that she's a few years older, dress up is still fun, but has taken on a whole new dimension now that it includes the dolls Nana keeps around the house. The floors and all available chairs are strewn with vignettes of dolls and stuffed animals in various finery- hats, each others (and Cupcake's) clothes, and vintage dressup items, a tea party here, an impromptu classroom there, and "beds" everywhere.

There's a certain sense of freedom to be had in allowing an almost 8 year old to take over your house for the summer. Life was pretty casual around here to begin with, but now the house looks like a whirlwind hit inside, the scent of Playdoh is in the air, and I don't mind a bit.