Trading Earrings for Marbles

          Jenna has worn earrings almost everyday since collecting them “from grandma” but I think the novelty has worn off.

          There are girls at school who see her earrings and wish they had earrings too – even if they are the ear-pinching clip-ons or twists.  Parting with her earrings has not been a big problem – especially when there is one who is trading her for marbles – well, that’s what Jenna calls them.  To me, they look like the shiny rocks that go into bottles or vases or line the bottom of the fish tank.  But Jenna loves them.  She sorts them in the same manner that she has always done with rocks. 

          Yesterday Roland called to see how we were both doing.  I informed him that Jenna had gone to school.  He asked why and I told him I thought it was mostly for the earring/marble exchange.  He laughed.  Yes, now there’s an important reason to go to school. 

Button Bracelets and Broken Earrings

          Ellen found my mom passed out.  (This was last month - when mom was still in her house and not in assisted living) Her jewelry holder was on top of her.  Not good memories for Ellen – who doesn’t wear jewelry anyway.  I don’t wear much (jewelry) – certainly not enough for the wonderful piece of furniture I remember mom purchasing many years ago.  I don’t think I would have even thought about it one way or the other, but it had been moved into the same room where most of the photographs were.  I made a request to have it.

          Roland brought it in the house and started to put it our room. 

          “I got that for Jenna,” I said.

          He’s ordered her to take really good care of it because it’s an heirloom.  That cracked me up.  I had never thought of it in that way before.  An heirloom is something that has been handed down for several generations.  And I suppose if Jenna takes care of it, it could become an heirloom – but I don’t think of it that way now.

          Of course the unit itself is probably a lot nicer than most of the jewelry it houses – if not all of it.  Jenna has always loved to make and wear jewelry.  We made button bracelets with the residents (well some) where my mom lives. Jenna made one for herself and I made one for mom.

          She did end up with maybe half to a quarter of jewelry that was left behind by either my mom or either grandmother.  Ellen brought another huge box into the room.  Fortunately Jenna didn’t notice or I’m certain we would have walked away with more.

          The jewelry reminds me of those worn by children when playing dress-ups.  Or something to be collected and ripped apart for making something else – which is maybe what they all were at one time. 

          Some of it is ugly.  I guess it could have been considered stylish for its time – what time?  Long before I existed, I would think.  Jenna feels so grown up with her dangling earrings – disappointed that the really cute ones are all twist-ons that pinch her ears.  But she can wear the clips.  She wore a pair to church and has taken a pair to school today.  Jenna’s enthusiasm makes it all worth it really. 

          I wish mom’s jewelry was worth something.  Most of the pieces seem to be plastic or falling apart.  Jenna broke one of the earrings yesterday – I’m certain it was due to years of decay more than on her part.  But there were tears in her eyes.

          “Oh, it’s okay, honey.  We can try and fix it.  Or we can break the other one and make barrettes out of them.”

          Tears dried up.  All the sudden the pair of earrings had become quite valuable.  

“We could make barrettes with just this part,” she said as she pointed to the fan part that clipped over the ear.  Pointing to the imitation pearl teardrop she continued, “And I can use this part to make a necklace!”

Okay.

For me the jewelry does not represent mom.  The only pieces I truly remember came from one of my grandma’s.  I don’t recall mom ever wearing most of it.  Maybe two or three pieces out of – how many?  I might be able to ask Jenna.  She probably counted them when she initially had her eye on them.

If I can find any joy or peace of mind with all the devastation and turmoil that has been felt these past four months or so, this would be it.  Jenna’s joy and gratitude.  It means a lot to find that pot at the end of the rainbow . . . or even just the rainbow itself.

Collector Items or Drinking Glasses?

          I know there are people who collect – perhaps I don’t know avid collectors, but I do know some people who collect certain things.

          Take Corey, for instance.  My brother has always been a BIG Star Wars fan.  He started his collection perhaps before he even saw the movie.  He had action figures, and the Mellenium Falcon, perhaps the Terrain Armored Transport Vehicle and that ugly animal thing – but I don’t know.  I must admit that I am NOT a Star Wars geek – nor do I actually know the Star Wars terminology as I actually had to Google the names of the transportation products as I really wasn’t sure (Corey would be appauled)

          Roland’s passion is Superman comic books – something he had collected and the boys’ mother threw out.  She didn’t know.

          I must admit I’ve had several collections myself.  DID HAVE.  When times got tough I had forced myself to spend my coins at face value.  Just because I collect them doesn’t mean my children will want to continue and then whatever I saved may not be worth anything later on down the road – which was my initial intent.  To have a material possession worth financial value.

          Corey’s collection has nothing to do with financial gain.  He truly loves Star Wars – and avid Star War fans LOVE to look at his collection – though much remains in the original packaging.  He’s never played any games or has viewed his calendar.  Actually, it’s kind of hurtful that he doesn’t spend time really enjoying some of the things he has – well, at least at the time they were given.

          I have no problem with seeing the Pez Dispensers left in the box.  If it weren’t for the cool dispensers I often wonder if Pez would even be able to sell their candy as I don’t find the candy itself to be that great.  Tolerable at best.  But does anybody in this world actually have a craving for pez candy?  I mean, really.  They’re not that great.

          On Christmas day Roland opened a set of collector glasses featuring four characters from Star Trek – which he decided to use as drinking glasses and if they broke – oh, well – at least they were enjoyed.  I’m afraid Captain Kirk did not make it to the New Year as he crashed to the floor and Scottie (or any of us) was able to beam him back to restoration. 

          Over the years I’ve learned that I would rather enjoy a gift than leave it sitting in a box.  It’s not like I’m going to be around to “collect” and with today’s economy . . . I can’t see my children hanging onto it. 

          I think Roland had the right idea – even though we had to say good-bye to Captain Kirk.  When I told Roland, he misunderstood and thought the real William Shatner had actually passed away.  Funny.

Aunt Gertrude’s Dolls and . . . Jenna’s Rocks

          Kayla and I took the kids for a visit to Aunt Trudy’s house.  She had two dolls that reminded her of Kayla – and she wanted her to have them.

          Aunt Trudy is a collector of dolls.  She has TONS of them.  There are two display cases which house a lot of dolls.  The larger one holds her story book collection and the smaller one contains the dolls which represent various countries.  There are also dolls displayed on the dresser, her bed, and other shelved areas.  I shouldn’t have been surprised about several others that she had downstairs – but I was.  20 – 40 more boxes full of Madam Alexander dolls.  It is mind boggling really.

          Every girl in the family (including Roland’s oldest two – amazingly) has been in the “doll” room and has coveted various dolls and a few have even made dibs about which ones they would like to inherit.  I’m at the point now where I just don’t care.  If I don’t get any of the dolls, it will be okay.  I don’t have room for the things I want.  It seems wasteful that the few dolls I do have (or ones that have been sent to Jenna) are tucked away in boxes in the shed. 

          Aunt Trudy rarely ever lets guests leave her house empty handed – especially the children.  She has always given us shirts, stuffed animals, knick knacks, and of course dolls. 

          One year she asked if Jenna would like a doll.  I said I didn’t think so.  She was still young and curious and was entertaining herself with examining polished rocks from a bowl that Aunt Trudy kept on the coffee table. 

          “I think I have some more of those rocks in my garage,” Aunt Trudy said. “Would she like to have those?”

          “Oh, I believe she would love them more than any other has ever loved any doll that you have given to anybody”

          And she did.  Never has Aunt Trudy received such enthusiasm or appreciation for any doll than the amount Jenna expressed for those rocks.  She would entertain herself for hours each day as she would sort the rocks by color, by size, by shape and by favorites.  Five or six years later (I don’t know how old she was when she received them – but it was before pre-school I think) she still has most of them.  And she loves them. 

          Jenna has ALWAYS liked balls.  I think she was born LOVING them.  And she has always thought of rocks as “Nature’s balls” – or anything which is round.  She discovered a curled up potato bug when she was one.  That was pretty cool.  She was barely starting to talk when she decided to chase the moon as she held out her arms and called it a “ball”  She’s still never been much into dolls though – especially dolls designed for display only.  How boring.

          Kayla accepted the dolls and took them out to her car.  I don’t know if she will put them on display or not.  Unlike me, she actually does have casing for them – but like me, she finds them impractical.  They are “fun” to look at – but the novelty is short lived.  They become dust collectors for a lot longer than the “fun” lasts. And those two – though the looks themselves really do resemble Kayla, Anna and Garrett – are porcelain.  If I’m to collect dolls, I would rather they weren’t porcelain.

          Bless Aunt Gertrude and Jenna for their love and enthusiasm for treasures and for the desire they both have in sharing their joy.

53, Ageless and Never Gains a Pound

I have saved many things over the years due to sentimental reasons: “my friend gave me this” or “my cousin gave me that” or “this was sent to me from Germany”  I apparently did not build up any sentimental attachment to the Barbie doll, any of her friends or the doll clothes that mom must have spent hours making.

          I was never into Barbie as much as my friend, Julie, for example.  She had the Barbie dream house and the lush convertible, and all the latest accessories.  Not all of my friends were into Barbie as much as Julie was, but a lot of girls were.  Barbie, Barbie, Barbie. 

          Even back then Barbie just seemed too high maintenance for me.  I had a Francie doll.  Francine fell somewhere between Barbie and Barbie’s little sister, Skipper.  Francie’s hair was shorter than I liked.  She wasn’t near as popular as Barbie – or even Skipper for that matter.  And that is why I had asked for her.  She wasn’t popular enough to be high maintenance.

          My aunt had collected Barbie dolls – hers were much older.  Back when she was a girl, Barbie had a sister named Pepper who appeared to be the same size as Barbie but undeveloped.  Short ‘froed hair.  I thought she was kind of homely looking. Kind of awkward looking next to Barbie. 

I hadn’t considered having Barbies just for collecting. They were something to be played with and enjoyed. Dolls got old for me.  I preferred playing with the boys and doing “boy things” which didn’t include playing with dolls.  And certainly not collecting them.

          My mom and the neighbor across the street had worked hard at making a huge wardrobe of clothing which included a wedding dress made from the same fabric as my neighbor’s wedding dress had been., an orange and pink plaid poncho that matched a poncho that mom had made for me, and a yellow quilted jacket – just to name a few.  When I outgrew Barbie I gave the clothes to my neighbor’s daughter.

          Mom was upset about it.  She thought that I should be saving them for my own daughter.  I didn’t appreciate the hard work that had gone into them.  When I look back on it now, I’m sure that mom spent more time making them than I did removing them and clothing my naked dolls.  But I did keep it in the family.  And the neighbor’s girl probably took care of them and passed them on to her daughter – or so I’d like to believe.

          Certainly it would have been nice to have those really special (not to mention modest) clothes the two weeks that Jenna had played with Barbies – but as I had had Jenna late in life I realistically wouldn’t have saved the clothes for all that time anyway.  Who would have thought I would give birth to my first (and only bioloical) child at the age of 41?

          I had tried crocheting some outfits for Jenna’s dolls.  I even had a model – one the dog had chewed and Jenna didn’t want to play with anymore.  I didn’t really care for the yarn clothes when I was younger – especially swim wear which would never be made out of yarn for human people.  But as an adult, I realized that yarn would stretch and would be easier to get on and take off.  My problem was in using the right sized crochet hook.  My eyes wouldn’t allow me to go any smaller than a G hook – I think most of the patterns I had called for a C.   Too small.

Barbie ended up with a purple cape, a pink pant outfit, and sad looking mint green swimwear.  And oh, yes, an oversized poncho. Jenna had three dolls all claiming to be Barbie – they were all different sizes though.  Jenna has never truly loved Barbies though.  She would rather play dress ups and have tea parties and play with her stuffed animals.

From 1970-1973 Topper (don’t even remember that name on a toy company) introduced a line of dolls maybe half the size of Barbies leg. I actually preferred them to the Barbie dolls as I could strap them (along with my feet) to the old time roller skates that I would often wear in our then unfinished basement and pretend that they were riding cars.

I had Dawn, Longett and Angie.  I kept their accessories in the kitchen carrousel that was designed for Barbie.  The top cabinets were actually too high for the dolls to reach.  But as I was just pretending anyway, it really didn’t matter. It’s not as though the dolls would have lifted the the doors and retrieved the items out themselves either way.

Earlier this month Jenna’s paternal grandmother and aunt sent her a Barbie for “the day of the three kings” which is something that Jenna’s class had just learned about in school.  It is the first Barbie doll I have truly seen her get excited about.  But not because it was a Barbie.  It is an awesome Mermaid doll.

Jenna had received Ariel for Christmas, but the Mermaid Barbie is so much better.  Her tail is bigger. Her hair’s not so heavy that it pulls her underwater.  And she comes with a bunch of accessories.  Mostly Jenna plays with her dolls in the water – and so Barbie clothes really don’t matter.  I don’t think it would excite me at all to watch the wedding dress end up in the bath water alongside the sponge and mop.

So there is a brief encounter into my world of dolls. 

I do have a doll collection – nothing like my aunts or cousins have.  My collection consists of 40 or so identical looking dolls in different (non removable) costumes. 

Western Airline had done a promotion over three decades ago.  My grandfather purchased them for me.  I don’t know if they are worth anything.  Right now they are in a box.  I suppose I ought to dig them out.  Give them to Jenna if/when we finally have the room for display.