This is my earliest memory. It begins with slowly descending the dining room stairs while holding tightly to our banister which was always reliable since my father prided himself in keeping our house in good repair. I can't remember if my sister led the way, but most likely she allowed me at 5 years younger to go first. Getting to the landing meant that I only had three more steps before I rounded the bend to the living room. Of course, we had taken the time the put on our chenille robes...mine blue and my sister's pink. There they were, our dolls....sitting beside each other on our rose sofa, eyes open and waiting for us. They seemed larger than life each with an outfit of corduroy jodphurs and white shirts with Peter Pan collars. They wore large corduroy tams. The best memory of my doll was her size. As I picked her up, she was almost my size and although her body was soft, her large head made of a hard material giving her a very shiny face, clunked toward me and hit my head. She was a lot to handle, so I sat her back on the sofa and just enjoyed looking at her. As usual, my doll was dressed in blue and my sister's in red. Somehow that tradition remained through my childhood. Whenever mom held a surprise behind her back and said to us, which one do you want, I knew to say "blue" after which my sister would say "red." This must have always been the expectation since mom always had something blue and red to offer.
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