(Note from Treesa: This post has been in draft a 'lot' longer than planned, but Annabelle was having trouble stringing together the photos I'd taken into a cohesive story.)
When Treesa started packing her bag for a long weekend trip to visit her sister in Virginia she didn't get the idea to bring a doll with her right away. Treesa hadn't been bugging her dolls for blog posts as much as she used to either. At least that's what I heard. Everyone I talked to felt like she'd been giving us dolls less attention. Halle thought this was a bad sign and said we should all prepare for the worst. But Suzanne told us Treesa sometimes goes through phases where her priorities shift and things get put on the back burner for a while. Suzanne said she'd seen it before and she didn't think it was anything to worry about.
What matters is almost at the last minute Treesa remembered the blog and decided she needed a doll to take with her. Word got around that Treesa was looking for a doll who would drop everything and come to Virginia. I'd heard of Virginia before at my old home. I knew a little about George Washington and Thomas Jefferson from my first owner's history textbook. Treesa is my second owner. I also knew that a lot of important things in American history happened in Virginia like the founding of the Jamestown settlement and several Civil War battles. I've always liked learning about history. It's kind of my thing.
But I knew my chances of getting picked to go on the trip weren't good. I lived in part of the house where Treesa keeps dolls she thinks need some work. Nude dolls she can't find the right clothes for or dolls with molded clothing pieces she wants to cover up are kept separated from the rest of the collection. Treesa says it's because she wants all of us to have the chance to make a good first impression. But some of us end up waiting a long time before Treesa can rework our looks into something she's happy with.
I knew I had at least two strikes against me if I wanted to go on the trip and get my picture posted on the blog. For starters I had a molded top with molded sleeves. Treesa never liked molded doll clothes. When she redressed Sabine in that Princess Leia poncho Treesa was really happy with Sabine's new look and called it a "redress success". Treesa said the poncho made Sabine look "less like an action figure and more like a doll". I don't really understand what's wrong with looking like an action figure. Then again Treesa's a doll collector. She's not an action figure collector. So maybe she's worried her collection will get too big for her to handle if she starts adding too many 12 inch action figures. Maybe she's trying to stick to buying mostly dolls to keep her collection smaller and easier to manage. But if that's the idea it's not working very well.
The other thing that made it a lot less likely Treesa would want to show me on the blog was my failed makeover. My first owner had tried to give me a whole new look by chopping my hair short and adding to my paint. She'd covered my fingers with messy black paint that was supposed to be nail polish. Treesa stopped trying to clean it off when she realized my arms were molded from blue plastic with painted skin and the skin was starting to rub off along with the black paint.I also have a paint rub on my lip from Treesa scrubbing too hard when she was getting off some matching black lipstick. I never really liked how the black paint looked so I was glad when Treesa tried to clean me up. But I knew my paint issues would probably look bad on camera. So I knew my chances of getting picked for the trip weren't great.
I really wanted to go though and I thought it wouldn't hurt to ask. So I went to see Treesa in her room. Getting up the stairs was a trip on its own but Halle helped me and made sure I didn't get lost. Treesa was packing some last minute things and didn't notice me right away. "Treesa," I said. I tried to talk loudly enough that she would hear me but quietly enough that I wouldn't startle her. But Treesa must've been distracted because I ended up startling her anyway. "Annabelle,you scared me!" she said. I tried not to feel hurt when Treesa said it but ever since Halle told me where the name Annabelle came from I'd felt sort of bad about that.
"Is there something I can do for you?" Treesa asked at the same time she was turning back to her open luggage. Treesa does try to keep her dolls happy and she knows we depend on her for a lot of things. I looked down nervously and said, "I was wondering if I could come to Virginia with you." Treesa seemed surprised. "I'm not sure," she said. But then she stopped. Maybe she didn't want to hurt my feelings. But I was pretty sure she really meant no and I tried not to feel hurt again. But this time I couldn't help it. "Is it because I'm scary looking?" I asked Treesa.
She turned around real fast and looked at me. "Who said you're scary looking?" she asked.
"You named me after a doll in a horror movie," I said. Treesa looked angry. "Who told you that?" she asked. I didn't want to get another doll in trouble so I didn't answer. But Treesa figured it out anyway. "It was Halle, wasn't it?" she said. "Seriously, that doll needs a new hobby. All she ever does is cause trouble."
Then Treesa took a deep breath. I guess she was trying to calm down. She bent down closer to me and said, "I named you Annabelle because you're an Anna doll, and I thought you should have an old-fashioned name, since you like history so much." I watched the look on Treesa's face change. It was like she was thinking over what she'd just said. "Maybe it would be a good idea to have you come along," she said.
When we got to Virginia the first place Treesa tried to take pictures was in front of the large photo prints hanging on the wall in the hotel room. But those photos didn't turn out. Treesa said there just wasn't enough light in the room to take good pictures. She tried using the flash but she said that washed everything out and reflected off the artwork. So we had to wait until we visited Treesa's sister on the farm where she's working and living before we could get any photos for the blog.
This first picture was taken at a rock garden that Treesa's sister and another farm worker set up. They named it Stump Rock Village. The other farm worker made a sign and everything.
Then Treesa's sister showed off where she was living and I was left there while Treesa and her sister and the other family members Treesa came on the trip with went out to dinner. There was a cat named Shera who belonged to the other farm worker but Shera was old and she stayed curled up on a cushion the whole time everyone was gone so she didn't bother me.
The next day Treesa's sister met up with the rest of the family to tour the Civil War battlefield at Manassas. Treesa's camera couldn't seem to focus on the field and me at the same time.
A lot of the trees there were blooming and looked really pretty. So Treesa held me up by one of the branches to take my picture.
Then Treesa took my picture in front of a wooden fence.
Treesa saw this spot where the fence was a little overgrown and said it was a good metaphor for war. She said during war the ground gets torn up and life gets turned upside down but when the war ends things start to grow back and life goes back to normal. And people forget.
Here's a photo of one of the Civil War monuments. Treesa doesn't remember exactly why she took this picture but she said she thinks it's because the gates gave her a cemetery vibe and were a reminder of just how many people died, on both sides.
The next day Treesa's sister took the family on a tour of a hiking trail that's on the farm property. The trail is mostly for guests who are staying at an inn that's also part of the farm.
Later Treesa's sister showed off the farm staff's vegetable garden. Here I am next to a small tomato plant.
Since everything growing in the garden was for the farm workers and not for sale Treesa and her family actually helped Treesa's sister pick some of the vegetables.
And that's about all there is to say honestly. It wasn't a long trip so there wasn't enough time to see any more historic places. But I'm glad I got to go even though most of the stuff we did was sort of outdoorsy and I'm not really that outdoorsy. Just being somewhere and knowing that before I was even made something important happened there sort of made me feel like I was part of history.
Respectfully Yours, Annabelle
(This was a popular type of closing for letters written in the 19th century.)
