I've been hunting

...for the original clothes for my American Girl "Kirsten" doll ever since I brought her out of storage for Maya and Sophie to play with. Until a few months ago, she was packed up in a clear zippered bag on a shelf in the basement, just waiting for the day my daughters were ready.

This summer, when one of Maya's generous friends decided to just GIVE her an (extra) American Girl doll...(and a Bitty Baby for Sophie, and dresses and accessories, etc.) it was time. I decided to get my Kirsten out, so that when another friend came over to play (that same day), they could play together. But my doll had no clothes. I just knew that they were packed away carefully in a shoe box...somewhere. I asked my parents to search my old closet, the garage storage, the crawl space...

When I was little, I knew that ownership of such a doll was no small thing. In fact, no one gave her to me. I'm pretty sure I knew better than to even ask. I carefully studied (or memorized) the catalog as I saved my money...for...years. When I finally had the $90, I ordered her.

Just the doll. Not the extra accessories...

Not any of the other outfits or books or furniture either. I made those. I sewed a detailed quilt by hand, my dad built a poster bed, and I made pillows, a sham, a fitted sheet & top sheet, I made her an apron, my mother sewed her an extra dress. I loved this doll. And I loved the historic time she represented and all the ways she excited my imagination.

I do have issues with the whole game that the "American Girl" company runs. While there are a few great ideals wrapped up in the "American Girl" package, it mostly seems to be a slick and brilliant business, marketing endless products and accessories, all exhorbitantly priced, offering branding and identity shaping, early materialism building.... The whole machine makes me a bit cynical.

But I'm obviously still (a little?) guiltily hooked. I try to be a skeptic, but deep down, it's really hopeless for me.

After that day that I pulled my Kirsten out of storage, I did a little internet searching on her. She's 'retired' now, and sells for over $300 new. Not that I'd ever try to sell her (she's not in good enough shape if I did)...I was however a bit more desperate to find those original clothes. I called my parents again. I went there and dug through my old closet myself. No luck.

Tonight, as Ryan pulled down the Christmas boxes from the garage attic, he found a box, a huge forgotten plastic tub. He thought it might hold some of my childhood things. He was right. It was filled with baby blankets and six labeled shoe boxes, each a treasure chest for a sentimental mother of two little daughters. Inside the tub, I found my old Madame Alexander baby doll from my Aunt Connie, my only "Barbie" (not a real worldly Barbie, of course. Mine was actually a Biblical "Esther" doll purchased at the local Christian book store), my Hatian doll (brought back by missionaries), a white and pink quilt from my bed, a few of my prettiest baby clothes, several doll dresses, and my beloved "Sarah" cabbage patch doll.

I had a handsewn "cabbage patch-wanna-be doll" for a long time (that someone made lovingly for me, I'm sure), but it just was never the same to me. I always wanted a real one, like all my friends had. When I was seriously ill in the hospital as a five-year-old, my next-door neighbors bought one for me. I still remember opening the box in my hospital bed. She had long brown hair and brown eyes like mine. She wore authentic cabbage patch accessories, white & pink pin-stripe jeans, white tennis shoes with pink stripes, a pink rain jacket (all found preserved in this magical bin). Owning her then made me feel SO rich.

And in the box on the bottom, Kirsten's things. The pillow I made for her bed with a ruffled edge and heart hand stiched in the center, a red flannel nightgown (which will be perfect for our Corbin family Christmas red-flannel pajamas tradition) and Kirsten's original dress and apron.

I'm full of once forgotten memories now, and...pretty excited to reveal my treasures in the morning to my two sleeping girls.

dreaming...

...someday one of these fabrics could be transformed into bedroom curtains, window seat cushions, duvet covers, or throw pillows maybe...

In reality...
I've been wanting to find something old to repurpose as a jewelry organizer. I wanted it to be unique and have character..with lots of little 'cubbies'...possibly even drawers...and something I could hang on my wall. Then I found this brilliant idea on Etsy (made by "Bluebirdheaven"). I already have my printer drawer (found at an antique store for $12), it's partially cleaned out, but it needs a little more time before mine will be ready to hang.

This post is looking like something I cut out and paste into my "book". I do have a real journal... one made out of paper that isn't published all over the internet. It's mostly for me...a place to collect ideas, recipes, memories, reflections, prayers, quotes, book 'reviews.' But sometimes really good friends kindly browse its quirky pages and make me feel grateful and embarrassed. I'm on my second "book", the first one is filled to capacity. Maybe my third book will look something like this one...

treasure hunting

For the first time in probably five years, Ryan and I visited an antique store.
Last weekend, we drove the girls in their pajamas to their Nana and Papa's house for a sleepover. On Saturday morning, Ryan and I woke up to the sun, had a quiet breakfast, and went to look for antiques. It was the perfect kind of date. I think I like morning dates better than evening ones now. We had so much fun talking, hunting for treasures, laughing, and dreaming.

These were a few of our finds...
The girls love their little chair. Sometimes it's hard to share...but they manage. Maybe someday we'll find it's match.Poker.


A perfect place to store all my spools of color.

my dollhouse

We brought my dollhouse home today. As I discovered all the tiny contents, a flood of memories of my quirky and very whimsical childhood came rushing back. My grandfather Ed (my dad's father) built this beautiful wooden dollhouse for me. And one Christmas, my brother Daniel spent hours gluing the wooden shingles to the roof. Some of the furniture was beautiful...but lots of the 'accessories' were my own creations...made out of paper and scotch tape, plastic pizza box stands, scraps of fabric, old candle holders, legos, broken tiles.
I trashed some of the really gross things... but I just had to set it all up..just right. It needed to be photographed this way before I tear it apart and clean all those layers of dust and spider webs.
That photo is of my friend, Arianne Strattan (now a Ford model) on the wall in that frame (made out of toothpicks). I remember thinking that she looked just like my dollhouse family's little girl (with blue eyes, long blond hair, and a pink dress).I can't believe how much time I spent meticulously making things for my little family. Apparently, I thought it very important that every member of the family should have their own tiny Bible. (I even gave one of them gold pages?!?) A custom violin case (made out of scotch tape and black construction paper),......a re-purposed spool of thread covered with a fabric scrap became an end table to hold my oil lamp. I made a miniature pink stenciled bedside table out of one of those round plastic stands that used to be (still are?) in pizza boxes for the little girl's room. A pink towel became carpet, strands of lace and paper scraps fill the windows. I spent hours decorating and redecorating... using anything I could find. I sewed tiny clothes for my people, pillows and blankets for their beds. I knew that I loved to make things as a child. But until I saw this stash...I had no idea.

I like remembering. I've been remembering a lot lately. In the past week, I've even thought of a few stories to tell Ryan that he's never heard! For some reason, the past has been more attainable in my memory files these days. And it makes me feel richer.

Now that they are awake from their naps (the doll house was sitting on the kitchen table when Maya and Sophie woke up), I can hardly keep the girls away from it. (I really want to clean it first!) I wish they knew their Great Grandpa who built such a delightful and sturdy dollhouse for his little granddaughter. I wish they could sit in his lap and laugh while he pretended to be confused about which were hands and which were feet. I wish they knew his quiet humor and his big twinkling brown eyes. And I wish I could thank him again for this gift that he is now giving to my children.

my little red chair

Cleaning?

We might have a garage sale this weekend. So, yesterday I started cleaning out the closet in the guest room...which was literally packed with boxes, luggage, loose papers, pictures, frames. It was dangerous. Anything could happen when you opened the door. The problem with cleaning one closet, is that in order to actually fix things, I have to have a place to put them, which means I have to clean out another closet. And so the cycle began. So last night, when I went to bed at 2 AM, my entire house was torn apart.
Also last night, Ryan informed me that his aunt, uncle, and cousins may come to visit tonight. Fortunately they are very real, gracious, loving people. However, I don't want them to hurt themselves. I better get to work.