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Easter
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Tigress by Ellen Tsagaris

Tigress by Ellen Tsagaris
This is a story of Jack the Ripper with at Twist!

Ellen Tsagaris' The Bathory Chronicles; Vol. I Defiled is My Name

Ellen Tsagaris' The Bathory Chronicles; Vol. I Defiled is My Name
This is the first of a trilogy retelling the true story of the infamous countess as a youn adult novel. History is not always what it seems.

Wild Horse Runs Free

Wild Horse Runs Free
A Historical Novel by Ellen Tsagaris

With Love From Tin Lizzie

With Love From Tin Lizzie
Metal Heads, Metal Dolls, Mechanical Dolls and Automatons

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The Legend of Tugfest

The Legend of Tugfest
Dr. E is the Editor and A Contributor; proceeds to aid the Buffalo Bill Museum

Emma

Emma

Like My Spider

Like My Spider
It's Halloween!

Moth

Moth
Our Friend

Little Girl with Doll

Little Girl with Doll
16th C. Doll

A Jury of her Peeps

A Jury of her Peeps
"Peep Show" shadow box

Crowded Conditions

Crowded Conditions

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Opie Cat's Ancestors

Opie Cat's Ancestors
Current Cat still Sleeps on Victorian Doll Bed with Dolls!

First Thanksgiving Dinner

First Thanksgiving Dinner
Included goose and swan on the menu!

Autumn Still Life

Autumn Still Life
public domain

Boadicea

Boadicea
The Original Bodacious Woman

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Angel Monument

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Kiowa Doll

Kiowa Doll

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Sketch of children playing
Courtesy, British Museum

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Small Dolls, Clay and Cloth

Small Dolls, Clay and Cloth

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A Goddess

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Friday, February 5, 2016

Of Birds and Nests

It's been a strange, strange winter.  I saw my first robin in January.  We have little or no snow, and it is over 40 degrees one day, then below 20 another.  The birds seem to be frantic; they are hopping around with seeds in their mouths, their eyes bright as black beads.


When I was at school years ago, we had an alcove in the university building where I worked where pigeons roosted.  The whole five years I was there, there was a lone nest in the corner, with two eggs in it.  They had petrified for sure by the time I graduated, and they had never hatched.  They were the same eggs.  One, sometimes two pigeons, sat by the nest and just stared.  Were they wishing things were different?  Were they contemplating futile efforts?  Their loyalty and devotion were touching, even if a little misplaced.


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