When Anne and I were trying to come up with ways of zooting up our market display, I suggested that we get a head (to put hats on, you know). Megan overhead this and made gagging gestures. Anne sniggered disparagingly. Even Rob seemed grossed out.
But a couple of weeks ago I found Carol languishing forlornly at Milnerton Flea Market, and the guy said he only wanted R50 for her, so – end of story.
So you know what? that’s fine, they can laugh all they want, and maybe I won’t even take Carol to market now, especially not if they’re going to call her rude names like Chuckie-on-a-stick or whatever, but I will use her for my blog. And facebook. And as a decoy when I have to drive somewhere on my own at night (I’m not kidding, people do this in this country, the idea being that if hijackers are on the prowl, they are less likely to pick a vehicle with two people in it; my mother has a broomstick with a Chinese wig and a bowler hat that she props up on the passenger seat, and so far it’s worked well for her).
Anyway, here’s Carol, in all her glory.
And yes, there are fingerless mitts to match but, like the rest of us, Carol also has her limits.
Back soon x