As I write this the rain turns to snow turns to rain again, peltering against my big dining room window, tinting the light with so much beauty.

Everyone here calls these days ‘dreary’, ‘brutal’, ‘yucky’…’good for nothing' days. I am, as always, the devil’s advocate: I love rainy days, even when the rain is trying desperately to freeze the very marrow of your bones.

Henrietta Swan, natural fiber art doll by Fig and Me.

Maybe it has to do everything with growing up in semi deserted areas of Northern Mexico, among farmers who desperately always needed some rain.

Maybe because after a good downpour my loving Mother always packed her five kids in her ramshackle car and drove as fast as she could, through every single puddle in town, and there were many.

Some looked liked veritable ponds they were so deep.

I have such fond memories of rainy days. Especially the smell.

Here in Canada it seems Spring is melting all the snow away, a bit too fast and a bit too furious for this time of year though.

Not that I complain, I welcome those brown patches that are starting to unveil themselves in the woods and in my backyard.

I welcome the mere thought of touching green plants with my hands and grass with my feet.

Not just yet says the Spring.

I had nightmares last night. I was running from a pack of bears, trying to get back to my children. Such a weird dream.

So I woke up a little bit tired but ready: I needed to finish Henrietta Swan’s hair.

Sometimes when I am in the last stages of putting a doll together, I can hardly eat or sleep.

My enthusiasm is so high I find it hard to do anything else.

So I got up, made myself a strong cup of coffee to fight the last throws of sleepless night and needle in hand I finished her hair.

Her eyes looked so happy when I finished, I think she smiled!

We both knew the curling iron was going to be in service today.

I sat her down on my lap and I started telling her stories about my childhood while I curled her hair.

Such a beautiful morning we both had.

She asked many questions and told me a few more things about her own childhood.

I tried to write down as many as I could but I only have two hands and the curling iron was hot, so you will have to wait for another day to hear those stories.

What can I say about her for now?

I love her expression.

She pulls me right in and makes me want to sit down to play with her. I have been giving her so many hugs, I don’t know why.

Her entire wooly being oozes peace and gentleness. I did not plan that of course, is one of the many magics of dollmaking.

Each doll comes with a gift. I am lucky, I know.