chaotic nature, Annie not only learned to depend on herself but also developed a strong need to control the details of her daily life and environment. As an adult, Annie followed a strict regimen of practice, nutrition, rest, and public appearances. Although she needed to keep herself in shape, Annie carried her routine nearly to excess. As a case in point, every morning, reportedly without fail, she ate three dried prunes for breakfast and, whenever possible, poached an egg in milk, using a small, black, cast-iron frying pan she carried for that explicit purpose.
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Annie also maintained her costumes, tent, and homes with such meticulousness that she frequently annoyed those around her. Even family members lamented Annie's tendency to act "particular," and her husband, Frank, deplored her ability to drive away cooks and other domestic helpers. She treated her own body with similar care, which suggests more than a trace of vanity in Annie's personality. Even when on the road, Annie followed an unvarying nightly routine to preserve her features, skin, and hair. Annie's niece Irene Patterson Black, who nursed Annie during the 1920s, recalled that as a result of Annie's daily care, her body was like a "chunk of marble," with no excess fat and free of marks even on an injured leg.
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Annie sometimes responded in an irritable fashion to complaints regarding her near-obsessive behavior. That Annie was not above sharpness is revealed in her autobiography, which gives evidence of how her quick wit could turn into a caustic tongue. In addition, Annie's independent spirit led to her holding her inner self somewhat aloof from others, confiding little, except perhaps to Frank. Of course, Annie's life on the road militated against her making close female friends. Too, she saw family members only intermittently, and she lacked strong writing skills, but she seemed to make little effort to overcome these obstacles and to develop truly intimate relationships, even with her sisters or her niece Anna Fern Campbell Swartwout. During the 1910s and 1920s, for example, Annie took as her companion, confidant, and surrogate child an English setter named Dave. Nor did Annie confide her innermost feelings to a journal or diary or conduct extensive correspondence. Rather, she seemed content to live in the cocoon that she and Frank spun wherever they happened to live.
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