84-Lancaster Farming, Saturday, December 21, 1991 On being JU Joyce Bnpp ' a farm wife -And other hazards A sort of guardian angel keeps watch over the open kitchen dining-living area of our vintage farmhouse. The halo above her head is of disheveled, straw-colored hair - with visible rooft, a receding hair line and bald spot not quite con cealed even with careful arrange ment of the remaining tousled locks. Her garb is a lace-trimmed, yellow dress, faded from the years and with a ragged tear on the left sleeve. Permanent smudges mar her smooth, flesh-like tones, though her blue eyes with their dark lashes remain shiny bright. Her lips arc pursed in a permanent, small opening, just the size to accept the small baby-bottle accessory that came with her in the original, cello-wrapped pack aging box. This 12-inch plastic baby is a precious memory from our first born’s childhood. It’s one of the perhaps three dolls remaining from the early years of a more outside-oriented “tomboy,” who /"^LENWOOD ■ VMETAL FORMING 80