Tag: nostalgia

Tiny Tuesday!


Not long after we moved into Houndstooth Hall, I spotted this Hot Wheels car next to our driveway. I’d hoped it was a Cobra (reason will soon be evident), but it’s a ’97 Mazda RX-7. Maybe my favorite part is the sticker with the 55 crossed out (hey, Sammy Hagar!).

If you’re familiar with the Beach Boys’ 1960s music, then you know they began with surf and moved to cars. A band of teenagers suddenly rolling in money and pulling in girls naturally bought the coolest cars, but Dennis, always a daredevil, liked to race his. His car exploits are part of the legend.

Dennis’s cars included: ’63 Corvette Stingray, Jaguar XKE, a yellow Cobra, Ferrari Lusso (former car of the late Sam Cooke), Rolls Royce, Ferrari 275 GTB long-nose, VW camper, 1955 Thunderbird, 1934 Ford… and who knows how many others.

All of that is why I chose the sporty photo I did for today’s 30 Days Idol Challenge.


September 7 — With a hat ©Ed Roach

Who said it was easy
Driver drive on
Let the wind carry your blues away

Lyric from “Dreamer,” by Dennis Wilson, 1977

Get off my dress, Karen

When someone posted this vintage doll commercial to Instagram, Tom showed it to me and Tim tagged me on it. They know the way to my heart.

While I watched it and felt nostalgic about the dolls of yesteryear, and mused about which outfits I had and how my old Barbies still bring me the pleasure of dressing them and making stories in my head for them, even using them to represent my Neverending Saga characters, I thought about the detail and craftsmanship that went into those early fashions. Those zippers and buttons and snaps. The stitching. The matching of plaids and stripes. Even Mattel’s current-day adult collector dolls don’t have that kind of attention to detail or the high-quality fabrics of the originals.

It’s a fact of life, and I figured commenters on the post would make note of the same but also share some of their good memories. So I did that thing I freely acknowledge I should not do, as noted in my comment to a post from one of my favorite Instagrammers, effinbirds.

Yes, other commenters did recount their happy memories of their own dolls, and of their moms and grandmoms pulling out their dolls to share with their kids and grandkids, and of the fashions and how well made they used to be.

As usual, today’s less-entertaining version of Maleficent showed up to the party: I used to collect Barbies until political correctness completely screwed them up.

Since I don’t reply to negative commenters, and my blog was having issues, to vent, I texted Tim, “What does that even mean? Obviously not because they were denounced for giving girls unrealistic expectations of beauty, because apparently she was on board with that. So I guess because perfect (pick-your-hair-color) Barbie now has tons of friends who don’t all look just like her? I mean, you’re not mandated to collect ANY doll, just pick the ones that fit in your doll world, Karen, and move on. So sad a little kid with a friend or family member in a wheelchair can see them represented in the toy box.”

As he pointed out about the commenter, “Really…dolls? That’s the battle hill you’re going to die on?” He suggested this is a person constantly looking for a reason to be negative.

I think he’s right. After Tom generously used his time to fix my poor blog, I decided to share the new girl I bought to make friends with my baseball-playing Barbie, who I adore (and who I got last year because she is my doll stand-in for a character). One commenter said in today’s dollars, a $3.00 Barbie would run about $30, and I got this one deeply discounted at Ross, way less than her original retail price, which was already not as high as $30.

In a world of plagues, forest fires, earthquakes, and hurricanes, Mattel can still bring this tired old woman happiness, and I know every one of the dolls I see on the shelves is making some other kid (and kid on the inside) happy, too. Why spread misery to others? Let people be.

Chocolatey taste

Tom bought these by accident on a recent trip to the grocery store.

I ate Cocoa Puffs damn near every weekday morning of every year of elementary school, and more years of junior and senior high than I can count. (Weekends were more likely to offer up eggs/bacon/grits with toast or biscuits–or occasionally, pancakes!–prepared by one parent or another.) Cocoa Puffs and Nestlé Quik were the only way my mother could get milk into my body. I still don’t drink milk, though I occasionally will drink chocolate milk, but not by making it with powder.


What the heck is it with straw-using birds and rabbits? Is this subliminal cue why so many kids grew up to do cocaine in the 70s and 80s?

When we would visit Uncle Gerald’s family in Starkville, their grocery store didn’t sell Cocoa Puffs, so Aunt Lola bought Cocoa Krispies for me. Though I don’t eat a lot of cereal, I’ll still eat those when I’m in the mood for something out of the corn flake/shredded wheat/raisin bran range. Having eaten my first bowl from this box, Cocoa Puffs don’t seem to shred the inside of the mouth the way they used to. When I was growing up, that was a bonus feature because it kept everyone else in the house from wanting to eat my cereal.

In the ghost novel I haven’t worked on in years, my teenage character Emma eats Cocoa Puffs for that same reason. The mouth shredding is worth never having to share her cereal with her older twin sisters, who are the bane of her existence.

Tiny Tuesday!

Back in August of 2010 (on Marika’s birthday, in fact), I wrote a post inspired by Toy Story as well as a dream I had. Those two things led to my purchase of a couple of vintage Arco Gasoline Dolls of the World to replace those I’d been given as a child: Spain and England. I had six in all, and I’m not sure when they left my life, but dreaming about them left me feeling nostalgic.

During the apparently unending (thanks to misguided, willfully ignorant, dishonest, cynical, or callous humans–don’t get me started) pandemic, I decided to replace the other four dolls I’d once owned.

The boy doll in the photo below represents one of my characters in my work in progress. He’s currently spending time with me as my muse while I write two new chapters featuring him that are necessary because I’ve changed how the books are divided (three books now becoming what I think will be four? I’m not sure at this point) before I continue the saga that will be ongoing (but in a more positive and creative way) even longer than COVID. I’m eager to know how many books will actually come from the original book I wrote first in 1979-’80 (from stories that started in 1970 or ’71), then rewrote in 1988-’89, and now again in 2019-’20-’21-?. When I look at all those numbers, I get dizzy. When I think of all those words, I get fatigued in a giddy way.


From left to right, the dolls represent Colonial America, Sweden, Spain, MY LIFE’S WORK, Scotland, Holland, and England. There were more Arco dolls, and who knows, I may one day purchase France and Ireland even though I didn’t have them as a kid because they are relevant to characters in the Neverending Saga.

I hope you have a spark of creativity or a tiny bit of whimsy in every one of your days.

Tiny Tuesday!

Since I’m unemployed, I stick to a budget, and when I do shop, I first try to support locally-owned businesses. I visited three of those recently (Cactus Music, Soundwaves, and Texas Art Supply).

As I was leaving the coloring book section at Texas Art Supply, I spotted these. I photographed them with a bottle of nail polish (clear, of course!) to show how tiny they are.


Just a couple of royals and a commoner and actor who married up and became mothers. At $1.99 each, I spend a lot more money and emotion on other stuff (like art supplies, music, and books–and boy, do I miss the two Half Price Books storefronts in my old shopping ‘hoods).

LOL, I cut off the rest of my post, so ETA: I DID have paper dolls when I was a kid, and I remember two sets in particular. I’ve looked on eBay through the years to see if anyone else has ever listed them. I probably wouldn’t buy them, but I’d like to see them again, just because they stick in my memory.

I also had a set of Colorforms (or maybe Colorforms knockoffs) that I’ve also never seen listed.

I know all of this stuff is out there. It always is.

Pillsbury fresh

While there’s a background story from the 1940s that impacts the characters and plot of the first book in the Neverending Saga, that first book is set in the mid 1950s through 1967. If I decide to self-publish it, I want a cover for it.

With that in mind, I took a recent stroll through my favorite antique mall looking for inspiration or ideas. I ended up purchasing this silly thing for reasons completely unrelated to my novels.

This rubbery Poppin’ Fresh has a 1995 stamp on the back of his hat, and I’m sure he was some kind of Pillsbury giveaway.

So, too, was one I got when I was a little girl. My mother mailed off the proof of purchase from some Pillsbury product and maybe the price of postage, and I received a pillow, about fourteen inches tall, of Poppin’ Fresh, the Pillsbury Doughboy. His fabric was the same as old flour sacks, smooth and soft, and I did love to hug him and tuck him next to my teddy bear.

My Poppin’ Fresh is long gone, but I found a photo of one like him on the Internet. Does he make you want to poke his belly to hear him giggle?

Whatever Wednesday

Haven’t been feeling so great the last few days, but this morning I was up and had paid some bills, done a little housekeeping, and showered, shampooed, etc. and was out the door by 8:30.

I almost never hear my iTunes catalog because I play different music at home. Let’s acknowledge it; for 14 months, it’s been a lot of home for me. So it’s fun to see what will come up as I’m driving. Looking at my display as I drove, I decided my music makes me seem like I’m living in the past, but there are SO MANY pasts represented.

Here you go. Don’t mind the dust. The car has been collecting that shit for the same 14 months.


79. “Jessica” by the Allman Brothers Band. I have three sisters in a planned novel who are named for ABB songs by their father. I went a while without wanting to hear ABB but I rediscovered them along about 2016 and now they stay in regular rotation.

80. “Easy to Be Hard” by Three Dog Night. Oh, the stories I could tell. In my memoirs…

81. “More Than This.” The boyfriend who introduced me to Roxy Music is decades gone. The music remains. That worked out for the best.

82. “Dancin’ Across the USA” by Lindsey Buckingham. Between his guitar, his voice, and his lyrics/music, there’s nothing of his I don’t enjoy hearing. I think this might have been the flip side to “Holiday Road” from National Lampoon’s 1983 film Vacation.

83. “Where Were You When I Needed You” by the Grass Roots. Another chapter for the memoirs.

84. The Grass Roots again with “Lovin’ Things.”

85. WHAT WAS IT? If I think about it, I may remember. Because I know something split up this rash of Grass Roots songs.

86. Back with the Grass Roots’ “Walkin’ Through the Country.” The stories Lynne could tell about Dennis Provisor and his… voice. =)

87. Mr. Bruce Springsteen with “Human Touch.” There are no bad Bruce Springsteen songs. I’d go all meme on you and say “Change my mind,” but you can’t.

88. “Scarborough Fair/Canticle” by Simon and Garfunkel. I wish I knew all the words to the descant.

89. “Little Bird” is a Dennis Wilson song recorded by the Beach Boys. Dennis Wilson is my forever muse.

90. The Grass Roots are being so pushy today! And reminding us “Let’s Live For Today,” and how I love to hear Warren Entner counting 1-2-3-4 and the lines he gets while (the late) Rob Grill sings lead. Teenage soundtrack.

91. “Give It Away,” a lesson about generosity from the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Always loved this band. Recently, I’ve been checking out some of Flea’s posts on Instagram. Liking him.

92. “Ain’t No Sunshine” is a great Bill Withers classic. My version here is by the Neville Brothers. Outstanding.

93. Supertramp’s “Breakfast in America.” A band I listened to a lot with a different boyfriend from the one referenced in 81. Keeping the band and losing the guy was me dodging a bullet. Could have ended up meaning that literally.

94. This is George Harrison’s version of the Bob Dylan song “If Not For You.” There is NO DAY that won’t be better for me if it involves music from either one of these artists. Coincidentally, one of my characters feels the same way.

95. “Running On Empty” by one of my favorite singer/songwriters Jackson Browne. The guy who introduced me to Jackson Browne for the first time still shows up in my blog comments occasionally. Whatever else transpired between us in our long, strange trip of a friendship, I’ll always be grateful about the Jackson Browne thing.

I’m thinking the missing No. 85 was George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord,” because I know that was playing while I was watching train cars roll by. Why is it when you’re in a hurry, a train is THE WORST, but when you’re running errands and loving your music, a train and its graffiti are a little bit amazing?

I am here for the everywhere-ness of art.

ETA: I AM WRONG. “My Sweet Lord” played while I was watching the train, but that was later. The song at No. 85 was Collective Soul’s “The World I Know.” Saw them in concert with Tom and Lynne in 1994 at the Summit when they opened for Aerosmith. My memory has served me well today. Now I’m going to write.