I’d been eyeing up those playsilks they sell for a pretty penny for a while and thinking we should buy some, when lo and behold I find Alex and M playing with a big bag of ugly eighties silk scarves.  Where do they come from?  Our garage.  A wonderful place full of still waiting to be opened boxes from when we moved here, and other peoples junk.  This is the house where people send those items that charity shops turn away.  They meander their way here to spend their final days as bedding for mice or better yet childrens playthings.  As much as I cringe when another box arrives the toys M fashions out of junk truly are the best toys indeed.  These silk scarves have been hamocs for her teddies, tents used to decorate her den, she made pillows by stuffing them with bracken to put in said den.  She’s dressed up as a nun, a queen and pictured here as a butterfly horse apparently, the list goes on and on.

P.s. Not sure why she is pouting, (look at that face!) but no butterfly horses were harmed emotionaly in the publishing of this post.


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