Fall for You // AGPS

I saw the autumn leaves peel up off the street
Take wing on the balmy breeze and sweep you off your feet
And you blushed as they scooped you up on sugar maple wings
To gaze down on the city below, ablaze with wondrous things

The Real World // Owl City

Great autumn pun in the title, am I right? Ha, of course not. My puns are never good. Sorry about that.

It’s getting cold where I am. Some of the trees have already lost all their leaves. We’ve got a fire going, and I’ve been drinking hot chocolate (even though milk makes me sick) and wearing my combat boots and cute socks. The weather when autumn is turning into winter is my favorite.

I’m doing NaNoWriMo again this year (writing a novel in a month, for those who don’t know). In the past, I’ve always said I won’t be posting as much during November because I have to spend my time writing instead of working on my blog. But it feels a little different this time around. I think NaNo kickstarted my creativeness, which means I’ve been playing ukulele, writing poems, and blogging more. It’s all just an attempt to procrastinate my novel, but at least it’s productive. Long story short, I’m going to try and pull together a NaNo-themed photostory.

I hope you have a good day and enjoyed the pictures. :)



What is She Doing?! #11

It’s been forever since I’ve done a game of any kind, so that’s what we’re doing today: What is She Doing?! Which is basically just Caption It.

Here’s the photo we’re playing with. Isabelle and her dog Coconut seem to have encountered some tiny ghosts. idk.

If you don’t know how to play, here are the rules:

– Leave a comment with one or two captions for this photo

– On November 13th, I’ll announce the winners (my favorite captions)

– There’s no prize, it’s just for fun

Pretty easy, right? I can’t wait to see what you come up with. :)




Oh, Ophelia, you’ve been on my mind, girl, since the flood
Oh, Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love

Ophelia // The Lumineers

(I actually know nothing about The Lumineers. But my friend and I were listening to the radio one night and this song came on, and I thought it was pretty.)

 I’ve kind of missed taking pictures of my dolls. I always feel really great after I’ve gotten one of them dressed up and edited the pictures, so I don’t know why I don’t do it more often. I’m going to try, though. Wish me luck.

I’m really sorry that I haven’t posted since July. I don’t know what happened. I’m still not ready to commit to a frequent posting schedule, but how about we make a deal? I’ll try to post twice a month, and if I don’t, you’re welcome to leave me angry comments about how I’m a liar.

Time for some Life Updates™ because I don’t know what else to say:

-I went to the place where I planned to take the rest of the pictures for Serpents, and I didn’t bring my dolls?? Sorry.

-Halloween is coming up and I convinced my brother to dress up with me. We’re going to be Dipper and Mabel Pines from Gravity Falls. I don’t actually have any pieces for the costumes yet, so I need to go shopping soon.

-If you’ve been reading my blog for awhile, you might know that I’m homeschooled. Well, now I go to public school every other day for two classes. I’m not enjoying it.

-Fall soccer season started last month. We haven’t lost a game yet. (Although three have been ties. But still, we haven’t lost.)

I guess that’s it. I wish I had something better to post, but this is all I could pull together at the moment. I hope you all have a good day. ♥



Bodyguard ~ a Photoshoot

Hey, guys! Can you believe it’s July already? To me, it seems like it should still be 2015! Well, time flies faster the older you get, and I can’t say that I like it.

Anyway, I took some pictures of my H4H doll Jillian (she prefers J) and Saige’s dog, Rembrandt.



I love this shot. ♥





I love J and Rembrandt together — the small doll, big dog combo is really cute.



Aren’t Hearts4Hearts dolls beautiful? They’re being re-released sometime this year, which I’m really excited for. I hope to add a few more to my collection.





Rembrandt looks like her bodyguard — which is, of course, why I named this post “Bodyguard.” ;)






The Stray — a Photostory


I was reclining in a comfy gray beanbag chair, reading a magazine and listening to the drip-drip of melting snow, when Eve Cortez breezed past me and out the door. Gone to play in the snow, no doubt. I would have joined her, but reading sounded like a much better pastime then romping around in the glaring snow and tossing snowballs at each other.


Ten minutes later, the door flew open and Eve barged into the house in a flurry of mix-n-match snow clothes. She was breathing hard. “Molly, Molly!” she shouted. “You’re the animal girl in the house, right?” At my nod, she exclaimed, “I found a dog out in the snow, and I think he’s hurt!”

A dog?


I lurched to my feet, throwing my magazine to the floor. “Quick, Eve, bring him in!” I ordered.

She dashed back outside to retrieve the dog.

I paced nervously while I waited for Eve to return. What if it was one of our dogs? What if I didn’t know how to help it?


Eve burst back into the house, carrying a wet dog with shaggy brown fur. She set him down on the carpet and waved me over.

I hurried toward them, crouching next the dog. He was limping. I stroked his damp head with one hand while gingerly brushing my fingers over his injured leg with the other. He whimpered at my touch.


“We’re going to need some cloth to tie around his leg,” I told Eve. “Anything will do until we can find some sterile wrap.”

Eve whipped off her thin tie dyed scarf. “Will this do?”

I nodded eagerly and took the scarf from her.


I instructed Eve to comfort the dog while I wound the scarf around his leg. Eve was surprisingly good at it: she pet the dog and talked to it in a sweet, soft voice the whole time. “I’m going to call you Pete,” she giggled, ruffling his fur.

“He probably belongs to someone,” I said distractedly as I tied the knot, “so I wouldn’t name him. We don’t want to get too attached to him, because we’ll just have to give him back.”


Eve sighed. “But Pete is such a cute name . . .”

Pete barked and licked Eve’s cheek.

I sat back on my heels and surveyed my work. The cloth was wrapped tightly around the dog’s leg, but not so tight that he would lose circulation. Perfect. “Does he have any tags?” I asked.

Eve looked under his thick hair for a collar, but didn’t find one. She shook her head.


Eve and I designed posters with Pete’s picture on them, announcing that a dog had been found. We asked the owner of the dog to contact us so we could return him. I printed a stack of the posters for Eve and I to tape to trees around town.

I must admit that I wanted to keep Pete. He was so cute! But he probably belonged to someone, and his owner must be worried sick.


While I was pulling on my hat, gloves, boots, and jacket, I glanced at Eve. She was cooing sweet nothings to Pete. I couldn’t help but think about how scared she must be. She was staying with complete strangers and her parents were on another continent. I couldn’t imagine how terrified she must be. “Hey, Eve?” I began.

She looked up at me. “Yeah?”

“If it turns out that Pete doesn’t have an owner — that he’s stray — would you like to keep him as a pet?”

Eve squealed, hugging Pete. The dog barked happily. She exclaimed, “Thank you, Molly! I’d love that.”

I grinned at her and opened the door. Then Eve, Pete, and I trudged out into the snow.


Dognapped ~ a Photostory


I’d taken the dogs out for a walk, making the most of the sunny afternoon. The rainy weather had finally blown over, and it was delightful to be outside again!

The five dogs in my custody barked and bounded about, tugging on their leashes. It was a challenge, keeping a hold of all those dogs, filled to the brim with energy. Let’s just say that they weren’t the only ones who got a workout.


Ivy had generously let me borrow her iPhone so I could take pictures on my outing. I had what I called a photo-diary, so I took pictures of everything I did to add to it. It was basically a scrapbook, but I thought photo-diary sounded cooler.

I fished Ivy’s phone out of my bag so I could photograph the dogs horsing around in front of me. I had to shift all of their leashes into my non-dominate left hand so I could open the camera app, which turned out to be a very, very bad idea. The dogs strained on their leashes while I fiddled with the phone, and as I was waiting for the app to open, the pressure of the dogs on my hand went away. Once I’d set up the camera app, I triumphantly held up the phone and tilted it this way and that as I searched for the dogs so I could photograph them. But they weren’t on my left. Panic rose in my chest as I slowly lowered the phone away from my face, dreading what I might see.



I spun around, searching for the missing dogs. I caught a glimpse of them racing away from me, leashes trailing behind them, just before they veered off the sidewalk.

“Stop!” I hollered, sprinting after them. “Leo, Boo, Coconut, Chocolate Chip, Rembrandt! Come back!”


I reached the spot where I’d last seen the critters and paused to catch my breath.

What if I never find them? I wondered miserably. What if they don’t want to be found?

I squared my shoulders and tried to figure out what to do. “Well, I have to find them, obviously,” I muttered to myself. “Searching in the direction that they ran in would be the best way to do that, I suppose.”


But I’d been so shocked when they ran off that I could hardly remember if they had leaped off the right or the left of the sidewalk. Glancing around for a hint, I spotted a few crushed leaves lying in the grass on the right side of the path. A person could have done that, sure, but it was my only lead. Hoping that I was on the right track, I stepped over the leaves and walked along, calling the dogs’ names.


After a few minutes, I stumbled upon Leo, Emily’s brand new teacup puppy. Being so tiny, he must not have been able to keep up with the larger dogs.

I crouched beside a panting Leo and stroked his soft fur. “Where are the others, hmm, little guy?” I murmured, grabbing his leash so he couldn’t run off.

In response, Leo gave a high-pitched bark and pressed her snuffling nose to the ground. He’d caught the scent of the runaways!


Holding tightly to Leo’s leash, I let him lead me to what I hoped was my sisters’ unharmed pets. I followed him through a park for several minutes before he barked again and pulled me toward the road. There were the four missing dogs, gathered around an old woman in a shapeless floral dress. Despite the sunshine, she was bundled up in a brick red scarf, cream sweater, and cozy-looking black and white boots that she shouldn’t have worn with her shortbread-colored dress. Old people were always cold.


“Hello!” I called, jogging toward the old woman, with a wide smile of relief on my face. “Thank you for finding my dogs. I hope they didn’t cause you any problems.”

Upon laying eyes on me, the woman scooped up Coconut and stuffed Isabelle’s fluffy white dog into a green bin strapped to the moped behind her. With stunning speed, she shoved Chocolate Chip and Rembrandt into the bin with Coconut. She crammed the smallest dog, my very own Boo, into a cotton candy-pink pet carrier tied to the moped.


I hardly had the time to think She’s dognapped them! before the elderly woman gunned the motor and sped away on her pink and limegreen scooter.

“STOP!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, standing there helplessly as she drove away with my pets. “Someone, help me! That woman stole my dogs!” I glanced desperately around the park, looking for someone who had heard my plea. But the park was empty.

It was up to me to save the pets.


Before I really knew what I was doing, I’d whipped out Ivy’s phone and taken a picture of the woman puttering down the street with my dogs in tow. The photo captured her license plate: OG<3GIRL. It probably stood for Old Granny Girl or whatever. But I wasn’t interested in figuring out what her license plate meant — the police could track her down with the information I’d gathered. That was the reason I’d taken the picture.


At the speed she was going — she’d only just pulled away from the curb — I guessed that I might be able to run alongside her. Then I could follow her home and rescue the dogs myself. That seemed to be the better plan, so I sprinted down the sidewalk that ran along beside the road, almost keeping pace with the old lady’s scooter. Leo whimpered and raced after me.

As I turned a corner, still trailing the woman, I decided that if I lost sight of her, then I would call the police. Only then. Because I, I was sure, could save my pets without the help of the police. She was just an old woman, after all.


The woman turned onto a private drive after awhile, and I slowed down. If I drew too close, she would see me, and heaven knows what would happen then. She might start going ten miles per hour, and I didn’t have the energy left to keep up with her much longer.

Fortunately, at that moment, she parked next to a beige plant reaching up from a flower bed. I stopped jogging completely, stopped breathing, even, waiting to see what she would do next.


The woman eased off of the moped and lifted the dogs out of their cages. She gripped the leashes like her life depended on it, dragging the dogs toward her house. Chocolate Chip and Coconut, who’d had the best seats in the house, surged ahead, while Rembrandt and Boo nervously lagged behind. No wonder; Boo had been trapped in a pet carrier, which bumped against the moped with every pothole, and Rembrandt had been squished beneath Chocolate Chip and Isabelle’s dog.

“Puppies,” the woman cooed, meandering up the walk to her porch. “Sweet puppies, puppies . . .”

And that was when it occurred to me that she was going to lock them up in her home. I might never see them again, ever. I needed to act now.


I dashed up to the porch and shouted, “Stop right there, lady!” I waved Ivy’s phone at her. “Give me my dogs back, or I’ll call the police!”

She shot me an unconcerned look and continued walking along.

“I’ll do it,” I threatened. “I’ll call them!”

She strolled along, unperturbed.

I tucked the phone into my purse and clenched my fists. She was just an old, frail woman, and I was a strong, healthy ten-year-old. If she refused to return the dogs, I would fight her for them.


Plucking a piece of mulch off the ground, I commanded, “Fetch!” and the dogs (all except Leo, who was cowering behind me) bounded after it. The woman fell to the ground and lost her grip on the dogs’ leashes.

“Good dogs!” I praised, throwing another chunk of mulch for them so they wouldn’t instantly come running back to me, begging for something else to fetch. I needed the time to confront the woman.


I pounced on her, pinning her down. She was whispering about her old, creaky joints, and then, randomly, she cried, “Sweet puppies!”

I looked her in the eye and demanded sternly, enunciating clearly, “Why did you take my dogs?”

“Sweet puppies . . .”

“Tell me! Why did you take them?”

“Sweet, sweet puppies . . .”

After that went on for five minutes, I sat back on my heals and sighed. I wasn’t getting anywhere. The newly-freed woman scrambled to her feet and rushed into her house, locking the door behind her.


I stumbled off the porch, collapsed onto the ground, and was immediately surrounded by the dogs. They covered me in puppy kisses, and  suddenly my eyes filled with tears. I’d almost lost them all. For good.

Maybe the woman had just lost her marbles. That was the only explanation I had for her strange behavior.

But I didn’t care anymore. I was so glad to be reunited with my dogs that nothing else even seemed to matter.