Posted tagged ‘dolls’

“Home gives you something no other place can… your history. Home is where your history begins.”

February 24, 2014

Today is a good day. It’s cold and will get colder, but I don’t mine. I haven’t anywhere I need to go or anything I need to do. The ceiling stains were painted this morning, and I arranged for the whole ceiling to be done in the spring. The stacks of assorted stuff sitting in the living room until the stains were gone are now in their rightful spots in the den. After the spray painting, I had to dust or polish everything near where the stain was, but it didn’t take long, and it is so bright in here I think I need sunglasses. The toilet no longer needs a jiggle to stop running. I put the rock back, and it works perfectly. Peapod is coming this afternoon. It seems all is right with my world.

I was not the doll type of girl for very long, but I do remember a few from when I was really little. My favorite was a Ginny doll who had a wardrobe filled with clothes and a pink bed which was the same color as the wardrobe. I also had a tall stuffed doll wearing a dress who had elastics on her feet. You put the elastics around your shoes and danced with the doll. The last doll was small with yellow hair made from yarn and woven into pig tails. She wore a shirt and red overalls with patches. My mother, for some reason, had saved that last doll, and she gave it to me when I first moved into my house. She also gave me a small chair I had been given when I was three, yellow egg cups we always used which looked like chickens and my books, lots of books including The Bobbsey Twins and Nancy Drew.

When I first moved into my house, I had a desk, a TV and a studio couch, and my mother added memories. She gave me connections to my childhood and made an empty house my home.

“Every gift which is given, even though is be small, is in reality great, if it is given with affection.”

December 16, 2013

Today is sunny, windy and cold. The sun is muted, almost hazy. The pine branches sway a bit in the breeze. The day will keep getting colder so tonight will be a down comforter, stay warm night. It is a winter day at its best.

My back is better: less painful, mostly stiff. The lazy day I had yesterday was the perfect elixir. I have a few things to do today but nothing strenuous. I really need to decorate those trees. They are small so they won’t take too long. That will be my afternoon project.

My uptown had both a Grants and a Woolworths when I was a kid. Grant’s seemed to draw old ladies who spent time in the notions and cloth departments. The Woolworth’s Five and Dime was my favorite and the best of all stores. It had a bit of magic about it because you could find almost anything. It was where I Christmas shopped every year around this time. I needed five presents which had to total a dollar, a huge amount of money in those days. I walked up and down the aisles looking for those perfect gifts. My father was first as he was always the easiest: white handkerchiefs. He used them all the time, and I gave him new ones every Christmas the whole of his life. He was never a Kleenex guy. I sometimes bought my mother perfume in small decorated glass spray bottles, the ones with that little pump ball you pressed to make the spray work. Other times I’d buy a small sewing kit which had a few buttons just in case. Once in a while I’d buy her a pocketbook to read. I’d be drawn by the cover. Once I’d finished with my parents, it was on to my sisters and brother. They were really easy. Woolworth’s had a great toy section. The counter had wooden divides, and the toys, at eye level, were inexpensive. A balsa wood plane was for my brother. We all knew from experience that they flew best outside. If you flew them in the house, the tail section usually broke when the plane hit something. I remember how the wing slid into the plane’s body, and that had to be done gently. For my sisters, I had so many choices. There were plastic baby bottles for dolls. They had pretend milk which seemed to disappear as you feed your doll. Small plastic dolls were another choice. Their drawback was they dented, especially the faces, and once dented, they stayed that way. There were plastic balls, jacks and jewelry, mostly bracelets. I always got my sisters the same thing. It made it easier that way.

When I got home with my treasures, I’d wrap them behind the closed-door of my room. I think back then I used miles of scotch tape, but I always thought the gifts looked beautiful. I’d finish then go downstairs and ceremoniously place them under the tree. I’d move them about until the scene was perfect to my eye. I was always so proud of those gifts.

“If Barbie is so popular, why do you have to buy her friends?”

October 8, 2010

The day is beautiful and warm. I sat outside on the deck for a while soaking up the sun and watching the birds.

When I was little, I always wanted a train set, but in those days there were girl toys and boy toys, and trains were not on the list of girl toys. Dolls were and every Christmas until I was around nine or ten I’d get a new doll. As I got older, the dolls got smaller. The last Christmas doll was a Ginny doll. She came with clothes and pink furniture. I played with her for a while, but then I lost interest and she went on the shelf. Games were for anybody and so were bikes and sleds. Boys’ bikes had a bar across, girls’ bikes didn’t. It never occurred to me to wonder why. It was just one of those things. Later, I figured out it had to do with skirts. The only guns I ever wanted were Dale Evans’ cap guns, but I didn’t get those either. I guess a gun belt wasn’t really a girl thing. My ice skates were white figure skates; my brother’s were hockey skates. He never played hockey, but he was a boy and those were boy skates. I actually don’t even remember him skating all that much, but I grew out of a few pairs of ice skates, still have a pair in the cellar.

I had a doll carriage; he had a pedal car. I remember walking the carriage around the block with my doll bundled inside. My brother sped down the hill in his car with the pedals whirring as he flew. His car was far more fun than my doll carriage.

Since I grew up, the lines have blurred between girl toys and boys toys. Kids can play with whatever they want. I even have a train set.