On Looking Old and Loved

Aging doesn't come naturally to me. I am hesitant. I am far from brave. A dash of color here, a trim there, some sandpaper...

Dear readers, please don't be alarmed. I am talking about aging the little bear who's pictured in the post below (on the left) and having a quiet conversation on my other blog. When I'm facing a little bear with scissors, some form of stain, and fine-grain sandpaper, it sometimes seems that I should apologize to the little soul before I begin, during the process, and even afterward. And, not being the brave sort, I hesitate to go too far, because, gulp, the fur doesn't grow back!

Last night before bed, my daughter entered the room where I was working on aging the little bear. She said, "Oh, he's cute!" and asked to hold him. When she saw him up close, she exclaimed, "He looks old!" I just smiled and told her that's what I was aiming for. I only hope I can get the "loved" part in there, too.