Jupiter is the name I gave my childhood doll — a horrifying plastic antique with blinking eyes, hollow body, and one hand missing. She sat beside me as I caught crayfish in the creek, slashed loaves of mud bread in my pretend bakery, and wrote my first story.Though she has long since been traded in for a husband and four tumbling sons, a lot of laundry and big girl responsibilities, sometimes I still take some time to bring back Jupiter.