80 barbies

Woke up this morning with half a voice, and am getting a wee bit worried about the workshops I have to give at the Surrey Writer's Conference next weekend. Downing lots of Vitamin C and echinichea (sp?).

Went to the cottage this past weekend with Helen and Brian. Slept a lot, also worked on my workshop prep. Brian made a fantastic Tandoori chicken, and Helen made apple pie from scratch that was so good that I had two pieces for breakfast the next morning (ok, maybe not the best morning fare to beat a cold, but I couldn't resist...it was so good!).

Barbies

Recently, my five-year-old niece Sara had a "play day" with a classmate. Apparently this classmate had EIGHTY BARBIES (I kid you not). I had one Barbie doll when I was a child. Actually, she was Barbie's tomboy cousin, Casey. She had bendable arms and legs, and nipple-less breasts. I remember mourning over her when my sister Ruth scribbled on one of her legs in indelible black marker during one of our fights (I recall her doing this in revenge for something worse I did to her doll, though neither of us can remember what, exactly).