An apple dolly lady, who has been on our kitchen windowsill for 19 years. Once upon a time she had a chair; that disintegrated, a bit of knitting; which vanished one day, and her pretty clothes have been rotted out by the sunlight.
When we left our other house, I took a King Apple and carved it, and for a long time a very handsome lady sat and looked out through the glass. But steadily she has become smaller and smaller, to the point that perhaps a burying is in order. I’ll do it carefully, because the apple pips are still inside, and you never know, I might get a new tree that is true to the old variety. Wouldn’t that be something!