I often think that could we creep behind the actor's eyes, we would find an attic of forgotten toys and a copy of the Domesday Book (Sir Laurence Olivier)
Seeks painted trifles and fantastic toys, and eagerly pursues imaginary joys (Mark Akenside)
It's easy for women to say they don't understand and ask a man for help. As the saying goes, boys play with toys, and girls play with boys (Tom Stewart)
We have to take along a large teddy or cuddly toy to the Reiki workshop at the weekend to practice on! I only have little ones as you can see in the photograph. I will tell you about each of them in a moment.
When I was a little girl I used to line all my toys up on chairs and give them little notebooks, which I made from folded paper. I would stand next to my little blackboard and ‘teach’ them. They would have to write a little story or do sums, which I would mark. Margaret* (the ‘floppy’ doll who has ‘voice’ that says “mama”) would always do really well. Teddy would sometimes do quite nicely and get a star on his work. Olly (the blue woollen octopus) did not do well at all, he was rather slow and often needed things explained to him again and again. I don’t remember the rest of the ‘class’.
I remember the beautiful doll that my dad brought me back from Cape Town (I am sure I have told this story before) which he gave me to on the condition that I didn’t cut its hair. I am not sure why that condition was attached to it: I had obviously cut other dolls’ hair but don’t remember. She was a lovely doll with very pretty hair. But I had this overwhelming urge (as one does) to see what she would look like with short hair. I could just cut off a little bit… I hid under my bed with Dolly and snip snip snip went the scissors. I don’t remember what happened next but Dolly was taken away from me and put in the top cupboard. I also remember a giraffe that was put in the top cupboard – I am not sure why, perhaps I snipped his mane?
And did I tell the story about Roarke and his bear? When they were little he and Kyle each got a HUGE bear for Christmas. At some stage Barnaby was left against a bedside lamp and a hole was burnt into his bottom. Roarke cried himself to sleep that night, so distraught was he at the damaged bear. I took a little square of plush velvet and patched Barnaby’s bottom. After that Barnaby had real character. I rather think Kyle wanted his bear to have a burned bottom too!
My three toys in the photo: from the left, Jackles 2, my mom’s teddy, and Jackles 1.
Jackles 1: Kyle and Roarke gave him to me for Christmas just before we left to come to the UK, so that I would remember my favourite little Jack Sparrow our Jack Russell x Chihuahua.
Jackles 2: Ariel made him for me(!) while she was at college in Cornwall, he was part of her art project. I was so touched that she made me a little Jackles!
Mom’s teddy: I gave this teddy to my mom a few years ago because she didn’t have any teddies. She sent him over to me last year for my first Birthday away from home, to look after me while I was so far away.
All three of them lived on my bed. Until Lilly arrived. She devours the eyes and noses of any soft toy she can lay her paws upon. Little menace!
* Margaret is still around (at the moment she is in storage in Horsham with the rest of our belongings) after all these years. All three of my children say she is scary, like something out of a horror movie. She doesn’t have much hair left (only a few straggly tufts) and her “mama” is little more than a choking growl now. But I hardly think that warrants the cruel remarks about her! Come to think of it, I hope she is in the toy box… maybe one of them took the opportunity to get rid of her?
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