Some years ago I met up with quite a forceful lady during a vulnerable time of my life. She worked for me. She was an ex school teacher; and to coin a phrase she was, ‘from the old school’, when teachers were respected and children knew their place. (For the blog, I will call her Miriam)
Miriam was difficult to manage, but we worked on it together. Her heart was always in the right place and we became quite good friends.
I visited her home on a number of occasions, as she felt I needed company. Her home was filled with bisque dolls of all sizes. Her hobby was doll making and dressing. It was quite eerie at times, as some were large and appeared as you turned around, seeming to be almost human.
I moved on and left the area, so rarely saw Miriam, but she had always said that she would leave her dolls…
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