The Boxcar Children. Explained in a few words, how fun to live as they did and then be rescued+crush on Henry.
The Little House series. I was a little pioneer girl. I have my bonnet yet made with the sewing book (not the same as the craft book; I want to find an old copy if I can) from our trusty and beloved old church library. Tied in with the pioneer theme was our Oregon Trail game. I do not think I ever made it to Oregon which could have been due in part to my steadfast refusal to hunt. I remember dressing up and playing pioneers, tramping around our yard.
The American Girl series. I thought I was about 8, perhaps a bit younger, when my dad started reading the Kirsten books to me, but then I looked up the dates; I remember Josefina being new or fairly new (of course I also thought I remember Kirsten being new but she was one of the first . . . before I was born), so I must have been closer to 6 or 7. Surely it was 7. I got the Felicity, Kirsten, and Molly books for Christmas possibly that same year. I wonder if my parents got me those books to encourage me to read because I was apparently a late reader.
The stories have sadly degenerated, starting, I think with Julie. A lot of the older dolls have been archived, and the newer ones are just less interesting and lasting, I think. They changed the original artwork in some of the original girls' books. Ah, me.
I went to an American girl dolls program at about age 7 or 8; the first activity was a mob cap. We also did a Samantha skit. I do not remember all the activities, but the last was a tea in a restaurant in an historical building, and we received a mini tea set (which I have yet; I was obsessed with those for years, but its seems you can hardly find them now).
The next Christmas I received Samantha. I got quite a bit of her clothes and things . . . and then made one of my most regretted decisions. I gave. them. all. away. I wish Mom had not allowed it. I gave hundreds of dollars of things away, and NOT to someone in need, but because I was under the impression that that was what I had to do to get another doll, Felicity. I am so mad at myself.
We also owned some of the cookbooks, theater sets, craft books, and Samantha's sewing patterns, most of which we still have. My little sisters' destroyed Felicity's hair, but I still have her. One sister has her Addy doll. We took part in another program with crafts and activities via a Hallmark store and earned pins and a necklace. I know I gave my necklace away, and I think the pins also. What a careless child.
When my dad made us throw away our barbies (I was 10, I think) at which we bawled our eyes out, my mom replaced them (we had like 15 or more of them) with the mini American girls dolls. Between us and my younger sisters, those poor things are frightening now, but I have a few of the little miniature books yet in good condition.
Labels: Bookish, Childhood