Well, it is that time again, time for Bloggerstock. Unfortunately the bloggerstock website is down and my site, once again was down for a bit. This post was posted and then lost into the ether. So, here it is again. Hopefully I will be able to get the bloggerstock site back up in the near future, but dealing with the support department of my old web host is like pulling teeth. So we shall see. I will put a page on my blog here that has information about next month’s bloggerstock for the time being so check back for a link.
With that business out of the way lets get to the real heart of today’s post. The post you are about to read was written by a good blogging friend of mine and a bloggerstock founder, Kris from Because or Why Not. She is a great writer and I am excited to host her here. If you are looking for my post, you can find it over on Nyx’s blog.
The theme for this moth is photo inspired. The photo is actually one of mine, but if you want to read the real story behind it, you will have to read my post on Nyx’s blog.
Other little girls like playing house and tea parties. Their favourite things were brushing their doll’s hair or dress-up in the courtyard. And Alice, well, Alice was one of them. At least she was supposed to be. Her Mother would buy her gingham dresses and pink hats. She had play dates with these other girls. Ones where they would beg to play with her blonde curls and the porcelain doll she brought from home.
Alice was mostly alright with this. She didn’t mind Maddie or Candace or Sally. She’d talk them into playing tag or pretending to climb mountains instead of going shopping. Although, it only worked sometimes. The rest of the time she role-played the oldest daughter of a Mother and Father and did things like got ready for school.
Oh, yes, school. She liked school. She liked climbing on the big yellow school bus and beating the boys to the best seats. She liked making a circle with a stick attached as carefully she could. She liked when her teacher, with her red lips, told her she was “very bright” for knowing those shapes said “aaaah.”
But this was the weekend. Those days when her Mother promised her there was no school. Days when she went out to the courtyard to play with the other girls. It was alright, for the most part. But today the oldest daughter forgets that she’s supposed to be going to dance class. She wanders away. Past the edge of the grass, across the cobblestones to that break in the wall. The one where she can see a little bit of the river and the laundry hung on a balcony. Today it’s brights, all orange and yellow and red.
She likes to look far away, Alice does. She likes dreaming of the river bank and what might be beyond. A bad habit. A hard habit. And one she’ll never break. She just doesn’t know it yet.
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