Christmas 2017 Aftermath: The Christmas Fun Box!

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Christmas is gone, and in years past, a crushing depression would befall me this time of year. Taking the tree down is almost too much for me to bear; I am a Christmas junkie, through and through, and I don’t like it one bit when my fix is over.
Luckily, I belong to a couple of Facebook groups who are composed of Christmas kitsch collectors, and they have assured me that it is totally okay to want Christmas all year round in some way. They’re a fun bunch.
This year I am doing something new, and I wish I could grab a time machine and go back and tell my 20-year-old self to do it, too. I assembled a “Christmas Fun Box”.
See,I LOVE looking at old Wish Book catalogs,seeing what styles of decor were the thing, and seeing what toys were hot. What were the popular foods for the main Christmas dinner or snacks? And best of all, what sort of fun novelties and toys were the stores carrying that people bought for stocking-stuffing and party favors and last-minute gifts? This is what I wanted to curate; I’m already doing it with Halloween, and I got ready for  my Christmas collecting by getting a small, Christmas-decorated box…..

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Christmas Countdown 2017: Crystal Christmas Tree!

I have always loved these crystal growing science kits. I grew one at my grandparents’ house when I was a kid that I was very proud of. Some of these new small holiday kits feature Christmas Trees and yetis. I haven’t been able to find a yeti one under $5, but this little tree was a dollar at Target. Let’s take a look!20171214_213526.jpg

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What Day is it? Pet Rock Day!

 

With Sunday being Pet Rock Day,I have something really special to show y’all.😃

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I may have shown a pic of this earlier, when I got some boxes of stuff from my Mother’s house.

This is Scooter, one of a bunch of pet rocks I painted one summer at my grandparents’ house, probably in the late 70s or early 80s. He is the only one remaining; I have no idea what happened to the others,but I had a matched couple named Harold and Maude, an orange one called Orang Julius, and a violet-colored one named Rumplestilkin, among many others. All of them followed this general design of having a cute face at one end, and a body covered with flowers, leaves or a geometric design.

Scooter became a constant companion and traveled in my purse to school in a miniature aqua-colored  backpack a friend  gave me that fit him perfectly. I even took him out at night and put him in a doll bed on my bookshelf❤. When my parents got divorced, he got hastily packed up in my stuff.

Today, Scooter sits in a place of honor on my desk, holding down important small notes. He is very much worn from years of love, but I know he will outlive me, and whomever takes custody of him next. Who knows how old the rock is from which he is made?

 

 

My Weird Life: Operations on Lunchroom Food.

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So whaddaya do when you’re a fifth grader, the lunchroom food is pretty manky, and you have twenty more minutes of lunch period? You entertain yourself. And others.

Somewhere around the middle of my grade school years it was accepted all around our grade that I was pretty strange, and while some people relentlessly tormented me for it, some kids (whose friendship I still treasure to this day) embraced it.
One such method of displaying my bizarreness was how, when we were stuck in the lunchroom with a tray of congealing food, I initiated a way to pass the time: “Operations” on the food we didn’t really want to finish. Or start. Don’t get me wrong, we had some good stuff some days. Other days it was..well..not too inedible. I guess all school lunchroom meals can be hit-or-miss.
We began by choosing a couple of nurses. I was the chief surgeon but I did let others take over if the patient needed it. The “patient” was usually a chicken breast or Salisbury steak that I had quickly dug a hole into and hidden a pea or piece of corn or something. After I had my nurses, they covered the patient with a clean napkin and cut a hole for me to operate through. We also put napkins over our faces for “masks” if we could get them around our mouths and noses. Then someone had to play the life support machines; usually one or two kids in on the joke would lean over and make consistent beeping noises. I think we also had someone being the breathing machine. Then the surgery would commence. I would cut into the patient again with my (dull cafeteria-grade) knife,after asking for the instrument in official surgical fashion:
“Scalpel!”.
Then it was put into my hand by a nurse.”Scalpel.”
Forks were also stand-ins for scalpels, and eventually I removed the “growth” that was the hidden pea or corn kernel. Many congratulations went around and the “patient” made a swift recovery. (We did let the patient die once, just to change things up).
Needless to say, it was typical dark-humored fun for me and my colleagues, but one day a teacher saw what we were doing and of course made us stop.
Alas, what might I have been had I allowed to continue honing my surgical skills?