Skip to main content

Ghosts of Christmas Past


One of the best Christmas gifts I ever received was a Sindy doll’s dining set from my father’s sister, my Aunt Kathy.

Aunt Kathy always bought my sisters and I the best presents. She had three boys and I think she relished the chance to hit the girl’s section of the toy store. Many of my most beloved gifts were from Aunt Kathy. I mean, she’s the one who bought me The Barbie Beauty Center Styling Head too. Oh, I can still smell it-the plastic, sweet smell. I remember the way the powdery, blue eye shadow glided onto Barbie’s perfect eyelids, smooth as silk. And how her hair, always satin blonde, immediately became tangled, never to be like new again.

But back to Sindy’s dining room set. A creamy, French provincial style. It was made for Sindy dolls but at my house, Barbie took it over. Barbie was kind of priviledged and tended to think the world revolved around her so she often furnished her life from the spoils she stole from other dolls. She took my Jody doll’s dog and, worse, stole the Sunshine Family’s baby in some private adoption scheme. (Those poor hippies didn’t stand a chance against Barbie’s lawyers.) So of course, before Sindy knew it, her dining set was in Barbie’s townhouse.

At the time of my accumulation of these wonders of 1970s toy technology, we lived in a 100-year-old, colonial house in Ohio. The entire third floor was the attic and our playroom. We had one entire half of the space (which means half the footprint of the house!). It had two small windows that cranked open and the biggest lilac-colored throw rug ever. It was freezing cold in the winter and boiling hot the summer and we loved it. It was our domain and my mom rarely trekked up two stories to see what we were doing. When I read classic children’s literature, like The Saturdays, and their playrooms are described, I think about how lucky I was to have such a space as a child as well. We had a small record player and a collection of my parent’s old records as well as some children’s music, so there was often the sound of either The Carpenter’s Greatest Hits or the Mr, Slim Goodbody album wafting down the stairs.

Although huge, the lilac carpet still left a bit of the attic’s wood floor bare. The floor was original to the house and over time, the temperature fluctuations left sizeable gaps between the boards and we often lost small toys in the gaps. So slowly, over time, we lost the entire set of tiny cutlery that came with Sindy’s dining set between the boards. I assume that eventually a later owner of the house finished the attic, and I often wonder what they thought when they pulled up those boards to find a silverware service for twelve, each piece measuring ½ inch, scattered beneath the floor. It was must have looked as though The Borrowers had been living in the attic.

I’d love to hear about some of your favorite Christmas gifts and toys. And, if you want to see more of the contents of our 1970s/1980s attic playroom, I’ve created a pinboard. I’d love to know if you had some of the same toys!

 

Comments

  1. Oh wow, did I ever love reading this. Such a fun post! I always wanted an attic playroom, but never had one. You had the Barbie styling head! Lucky! I just recently wrote about my favourite toys - Cabbage Patch and paper dolls, and I had a few Barbies too.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I read your post and was very jealous of the dollhouse your grandfather made you. I think we would have loved to been friends when we were little.

      Delete
  2. Oh, this brough back so many memories! My Barbie (whose arm had been gnawed off by my neighbor's dog) was dating "Suntan Eric". His hands had broken off in a rock-climbing accident. I loved sewing clothes for them - basically fabric tubes!

    ReplyDelete
  3. That playroom sounds amazing! As a child we had free reign of the basement, but sadly our house doesn't have any of these bonus spaces for my kids to enjoy. I hardly remember any of my Christmas gifts as a child, probably because there wasn't one toy I absolutely had to have. My mom however, who is in her 70s, always wanted an easy bake oven, and still to this day mentions it every Christmas.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You should get her one for Christmas this year!

      Delete
  4. Oh my goodness, this brought me right back! Every one of the toys I remember! I vividly remember those Barbie heads and really wanted one. I'm not sure if I or one of my friends had one. I do remember having fun with it, though. Mrs. Beasley was my favorite doll when I was a little girl. ❤️

    I was surprised when you said you were from Ohio. Ohio was also where I was raised! Small world!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I always wanted a Mrs. Beasley doll. I love the show, Family Affair. I grew up an hour outside of Cleveland. Where are you from?

      Delete
  5. Your attic play room sounds so great. We played in the basement and my mom only ventured down there to do the laundry. I recognize and remember so many of those toys. The Speak and Spell. We had the Sunshine Family dolls. My dad made us a doll house and used scraps of wallpaper to decorate the walls too. My folks still have it in their basement. We had the SAME calculator. I loved my Holly Hobby doll. We weren't allowed to have barbies. We had the toss across. We also had the dolls that taught how to button and tie. I can't remember their names. We had all of the little people sets - like that airplane. So fun!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ernie, we got our hamster stuck in that little airplane one year. Yikes!

      Delete
  6. This was such a great post! I love how the hippie family didn't stand a chance against Barbie's lawyers lol. Our current home has an attic as you described and I have always thought it could be a magical place for the kids but sadly they aren't brave enough to make it their own space-maybe someday :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I hope they work up the courage! There's nothing like a room of one's own!

      Delete
  7. You brought back such memories for me, Laura. I love your writing. I don't give my parents enough credit, but I remember one year I desperately wanted a big doll that could stand (I think I wanted a younger sibling) and they got me one. They never said "boys don't play with dolls." They got me that doll and took all these photos of me with that doll at Christmas. Happiest of holidays to you and your family!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's such a sweet story. I'm glad you got the doll you wanted. I think those dolls were called "walking dolls", right? I had one too.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

What Lies Beneath

  Since I last wrote about my garden , a lot has happened. And a lot hasn’t happened. We went from a wet spring to a few sparse weeks of beautiful summer weather, and then roared into blistering heat. My garden, unable to contend with Mother Nature’s mood swings, had suffered. Between heat waves, I would wander into my garden and, instead of looking to see what was growing, I looked for destruction. Which crop failed this week? The beds, usually lush and beautiful, have big bare spots where the vegetables failed to grow. Our potato plants, which seemed to be the only crop that survived the wet spring, had dried and brown foliage, leaving me to wonder if my Irish blood somehow invited blight. While the garden withered so did we. Heat, illness, and general malaise made us wither almost as much as our garden. In the midst of this ennui, my husband and I trudged out to face our wilting, seemingly dead garden, ready to pull the dead plants, and to grieve over the failed plot. ...

Leaving Social Media

I took my first social media detox in November 2018. I decided to take a break for 30 days. It felt amazing and I learned a lot about myself and my use of social media. I returned to social media, as planned, determined to take the lessons I learned from the detox to mindfully interact with Facebook and Instagram. I had the very best intentions. By May 2019, all my good intentions were forgotten and I found I was back to a place where social media was affecting me negatively . I promised myself that I would get back on track. (You know where this is going, right?) Before long, I was back to what I perceived as an unhealthy relationship with Instagram and Facebook. Something needed to change. The pandemic hit. I used it as an excuse to stay 'connected'. Instead of feeling connected, I watched in horror as people tore each other apart online, saying things they would never to say to one another if they were face to face.  In September 2020, I deleted my business page and told my...

Fridays Are For Art

Those of you who have been with me since the beginning, the ones who have watched me go from mixed media art to craft design to watercolor to embroidery, may wonder if I have abandoned all visual art. I haven’t. I just stopped sharing it.  At first, my lack of sharing came from a place of hurt and vulnerability. All those years I spent trying to make a business from my visual art came to nothing. Although I wrote bravely about closing Laura Bray Designs, it felt like a profound and humbling blow. My creativity teetered. Then something amazing happened. I began to create just for the sake of creating. Now I sit down at least once a week and make art just for pure pleasure. There is no wondering if it will sell. There is no rushing because I need to put something pretty to look at on my Instagram feed. I just create. I make mistakes. A lot of mistakes. I create the same thing repeatedly until I land in a place of complete originality. This is easier now that I am no longer...

Sketchbook Musings

       I sometimes wonder what my grandchildren will think if they flip through my sketchbooks?       When they pick-up my Botanical Wonder Sketchbook will they see that I was an avid gardener, deeply in love with nature? Will they marvel at my account of almanac-like posts and see a personal account of climate change?      When they flip through my Recipe Sketchbooks, they will see the Ambrosia recipe I wrote down and illustrated, based on my great-grandmother's recipe. Will they be inspired by notes on our family tradition Taco Nights? Or maybe they will already have Taco Nights and realize where the tradition started.      When they look at my Artist Sketchbooks, they will see that I designed a line of rubber stamps, based on my love of tea and gardens, and notes for some of my embroidery designs. Will they be inspired to learn how to embroider or explore their own creativity?      When they look at...

Hacking My Way Through COVID

  If you are wondering where I’ve been, the answer is locked in away in my master suite, battling Covid-19. That’s right, I am no longer a card-carrying member of the NOVID crowd. Which is a bitter disappointment as I really was starting to think I had some sort of superhuman immunity to it. But, despite vaccines, mask-wearing, and handwashing I caught it. My husband and daughter had colds earlier in January. They tested negative for Covid so when I came down with cold-like symptoms, I assumed I caught their colds. I tested negative but a few days later, as I laid in bed shivering and worse than ever, a small voice said I just might want to test again and sure enough I had it. I texted down to my husband and was promptly locked away, like a princess in a tower. My first thought was that I would spend my isolation writing the next Great American Novel. Or maybe I would use the time to set goals and plan for the new year? But after two days of not being able to focus on anythin...

My Favorite Things

"If I dismiss the ordinary-waiting for the special, the extreme, the extraordinary to happen-I may just miss my life." -Laura Pashby Lately I've been reading Little Stories of Your Life: Find Your Voice, Share Your World, and Tell Your Story by Laura Pashby. It's so good! While I think the book's focus is on micro-blogging (aka Instagram posts), I'm finding so much inspiration for my longer form writing in it. The exercises are inspiring and I'm using them as writing prompts and ways to improve my photography. If you haven't read it, I  recommend you get it. One of the prompts is to make lists that you can later use for storytelling and I thought I would share one of my lists with you today-a list of my favorite things in my studio. While my whole house is filled with things I love, I typically save the most beloved things for my studio. It's where I curl-up to write and stitch so it's very important to me to fill the room with things that make...

How to Stay Friends without Social Media

How do you stay in touch with people once you leave social media? This one of the main concerns I hear from people when they find out that I’ve quit social media. To be truthful, you will fall out of touch with some people. But you know, that’s not always a bad thing. At least it wasn’t for me. According to anthropologist Robin Dunbar, the number of people humans can sustain relationships with is 150. He based this number (called Dunbar’s Number ) on the size of the human brain. The thesis is that primates are wired to be in group sizes that will assist with survival. While there are arguments about the validity of this theory, I know I feel stressed-out when I have too many relationships going on and not enough time to nurture them.   Being a good wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend is very important to me. It brings me joy to take care of the people I love. I cook for them, check-in on them regularly, and give them my focused attention when I am with them. But I mus...

The End of Self-Doubt

  I've been thinking a lot about my career. I have been everything from a financial controller and business consultant to an artist and now a writer. I've spent the past couple of years developing my writing chops and figuring out what I'm going to next. Lately, some very exciting opportunities have come up and with them, the old demons of fear, self-doubt, and self-sabotage. As I've aged, the patterns of my past are becoming clearer-just before I am about to level-up in my career or business, I pull back. I use the easy excuses of wanting to care for my family, to be home with my daughter. Such excuses sound so honorable. And they are. I convince myself that I am not walking away from an opportunity because I am afraid. No sir. I am walking away because my family needs me. It makes it easy to say no when opportunities arise. Yet plenty of woman are able to raise children and have successful careers. Why didn't I believe I could too? Letting go of my art business in...

Curiosity and Experimentation in a Writing Practice

  Experimentation is a big part of my life. When I work on my visual art, I always strive to find new techniques to improve my work and make it more interesting. When I cook, I try new recipes, tweak old ones, and use new ingredients. The list of experiments goes on and on. Now I try to bring that same air of curiosity to my writing practice. My Writing History When I first started writing, many years ago (before computers! gasp!) I wrote my first drafts in longhand, in journals then they would get typed up. Eventually, I moved to a word processor, which allowed for some editing on screens but I usually stuck to handwriting to start. Computers came along and it took me awhile to write directly into a Word document. I think I finally crossed over into writing my drafts electronically around the time my blogging began in earnest. But now, as I’ve begun my journey to take my writing more seriously, and am working on writing an actual book, I’ve found that I have gone back to h...

The Aging Inner Critic

  A funny thing happened over the past decade. My inner critic got old. The last time I really looked at my inner critic, about fifteen years ago, she looked like the identical twin of my high school art teacher. The one who told me that I didn’t have any artistic talent, thus crushing my dreams of becoming a fashion designer. But I looked my inner critic up the other day and discovered that witch got old! She no longer appears as my high school art teacher but is a completely new character running around in my head messing with me. She tells me her name is Maude and she’s an old woman of the most crotchety type. Her skin is creped and full of wrinkles, her hair is gray, she is short (like me) and thin (not like me, which, She points out, is because I over-indulge and She doesn’t). She smells of camphor liniment and the peppermint candies she clicks against her teeth whenever someone (me) says or does something that She doesn’t think is “appropriate”. Tsk. She wears sag...