Seeing Double – by Barbara Canney

I love this “portrait” of me! It was taken by my friend Barbara Canney at Our Grand Affair — or at least part of it was.  Someone else (we’re not sure who) was sitting in chair in front and Barb wanted to crop her out (sorry!) but… she hit the button and suddenly the Mystery Woman was gone and there were two of me!

When I was about five, I went through a period of wanting an identical twin.  I think it was about the time that Willard’s oldest daughters, Mona and Freddy, were born.  They were twins, I was told, but they were not identical.  They didn’t look alike.  And they were both girls even though one had a boy’s name.

I processed all of that the best I could and decided that I wanted a twin, too.  But one that looked just like me.  And it had to be a boy, I decided.  Not a girl with a boy’s name.  I don’t know if I expressed that desire to my folks or not.  I only know that the following Christmas I received identical twin dolls — both girls (unfortunately, I thought) and I named them Mona and Freddy after my cousins.

Before Cloning by Barbara Canney

Obviously, I was a bit confused.  It was just about that time that I also thought all cats were girls and all dogs were boys.  Part of that might be attributed to the fact that we had a male puppy (Zipper) and the neighbors had a female cat with kittens.   Who knows?  It was also about that time that I remember being in Oysterville with our good family friends, the Montagues, and being plunked in the bathtub after a day at the beach with Kay who was two years older and Jimmy who was two years younger.  I don’t remember much about the boy and girl parts — just that it was too crowded in that tub!

Meanwhile… I wonder if Mrs. Crouch has seen the Double Sydney picture and what she thinks.  Or maybe she can see two of things at will.  I have about as much knowledge of ghosts at the age of eighty-something as I did of identical twins when I was five.  I think I’m a slow bloomer.  But… I’ve said for a long time that I wish I could clone myself.  This portrait by Barb may well be as close as I ever get.