Another Petite Fig ready to play. Come inside and read all about his adventures, he is looking for a home today.
Tuck your sword in your pants, no problem, it should stay put while we climb the mountains. Dark skies approach and we must make it to safe ground before the raving and angry beasts get to us. Lore says these are dangerous lands, infested by monsters and crones addicted to children’s fingernails, rare folks of all kinds. If you can call them that.
My trusty side-kick has abandoned me, not so trusty then, eh? I must remember to reprimand him severely next time I find him (I think I left him under the bed), how dare he leave me unattended and at the mercy of wild beasts and terrible danger? No supper for him. That’s for sure. That should teach him.
Climbing this steep hill is taking all my strength and I must stay vigilant. Sounds can trick you in these woods, if you are a chicken that is. Not me, I know these woods like the palm of my hand, like my own backyard (hehe!). I was abandoned as a baby, left to fend for myself and raised by a family of fennec foxes. I’ve taken my keen sense of awareness from them, as well as a certain taste for chewing cud, but no matter, manners are not required in these woods: only your sword and your sense of adventure.
Growing up here has made me rough around the edges, I can climb trees with no socks on. I can wade neck-deep in quick sand and jump so high I can reach the tree tops. I can dig myself a tunnel (in soft ground of course) so fast I play races with the moles and hares around here. I burrow deep and find my sleep, only to be awaken by hunger or danger. I’ve escaped more monsters than you’d ever even dreamed of. I am a tough cookie.
I made my shorts out of the skin of a dead lake mermaid I found, and I sewed them with a pine needle and sinew. I’ve learned woodworking and construction from beavers, weaving from birds and netting from spiders. I learned to swim with frogs, learn to splash like a pro with river otters, to climb tall trees from bear cubs and to pick only but the best berries. Poisonous weeds don’t touch me, they see me as their own. I respect them and they warn me of their presence. The bees let me borrow some honey when I crave something sweet, the geese share some feathers to make my bedding and the soft moss cushions the soles of my feet. I don’t need a roof when I can dig, I don’t need a grocery store when my pantry is in these woods.
The only thing I need to keep an eye out is those monsters, creatures of unbelievable determination to end my adventures, my way of life. Always with pesky little tasks: “have you finished your homework?” they say. “Dear lord, did you swim in a puddle?…again?”. “Why on earth are you covered in blood…you know what? don’t tell me!”. Mothers!.
I think I can hear one now. “Supper time!”. And just like that, the magic words that bring me out of the woods. With such a strong spell I am worthless, I can’t fight it. I let their magic work on me and pull me out of my special place, defeated, conquered, destroyed…by hunger.
I hope you enjoyed the little story I concocted about my precious Augustus, most Illustrious visitor to my doll making realm. He is however, fed up with my insane organization and total lack of swordsmanship. He has requested (kindly) that I find him a home, he asked for a few things:
- a nightly snack of cookie crumbs and warm tea.
- a soft hay bed to lay his head down.
- a sense of adventure.
I think his requests are rather reasonable, so if you are willing to welcome this little rascal into your home, please enter your details in the form below. We will select a family at random tomorrow night Tuesday September 1st at 9 PM EST. A congratulatory email plus a handy paypal invoice will be sent to the person selected to bring Augustus home. He is an 18" Petite Fig ( a new doll style introduced early this year, very "petite" proportions but a very nice size to play with) made with cotton jersey and wool stuffing. Suri alpaca fibre for hair. He comes wearing the pictured outfit which consists of: an organic cotton double-knit top with cashmere ribbing, cotton underpants, cotton short overalls with snaps (distressed and decorated with embroidery stitching), stripey socks, velour cozy boots (lined), a handy satchel made of wool with a wooden button and a fantabulous hand-knit hat made with 100% alpaca. Everything on Egg is handmade by me for him, no pre-made wigs or clothing items purchased elsewhere (I receive this question a lot, that's why I mention it). His price is $850 USD plus postage charges (taxes apply to Canadian residents). He will be expectantly welcoming offers all day and wondering where his luck will bring him.
MR AUGUSTUS HAS FOUND A HOME.
THANK YOU KINDLY TO EVERYBODY THAT OFFERED THEIR HOME TO THIS LITTLE RASCAL. I WILL GET BACK TO WORK AS SOON AS POSSIBLE SO THAT WE CAN SOON HAVE ANOTHER PRETTY FACE GRACING OUR LIVES. MUCH LOVE, FABS.