I'm old enough to remember when a doll was a doll.
That's it. It was a doll and nothing else. Period.
I had lots of dolls that didn't do anything but exist. They had no switches or strings or other devices to make them do things.
To make them wonderful, it took only one thing: Imagination.
And I had plenty of that.
My dolls became stowaways on ships, stars in movies, heiresses to great fortunes, investigators who were at the center of international plots. You name it; I could work them into a plot.
I stood outside in the cold. Waiting. The sun had slipped behind the mountains and the wind blew through the valley, taking with it what little warmth remained. The snow that fell the day before had melted slightly and was now a frozen winter blanket on the concrete outside the theater. It was Christmas and we had come to see the Nativity Story.
Recently, a church in Little Rock has had to reschedule its production
of the children's Christmas play, â€śMerry Christmas, Charlie Brownâ€ť due
to a bunch of controversy over some elementary school teachers' offer
to take kids to see the play on a school day.
Apparently, some atheists in the community believe the teachers at
this school have stepped over the line separating church and state.
According to a news report, the controversy started when a parent
expressed her concern to the Arkansas Society of Freethinkers, stating
I was raised from the time I was about 11 years of age by my grandparents and back in those days most folks had one television. Ours was in my grandparentâ€™s bedroom and I can tell you that young Dave had very little influence over what we watched in the evenings.
Rules were relaxed in the afternoon after school and Saturdays, of course, but that was it. If I wanted to see TV, we watched what Mamma wanted and that included â€śPerry Masonâ€ť, â€śWagon Trainâ€ť, â€śDragnetâ€ť, â€śHave Gun will Travelâ€ť and what I considered the MOST boring â€“ â€śHallmark Hall of Fame.â€ť (grin).
By Ginger English
With the holidays fast approaching, thoughts turn to home. Memories are rekindled of freshly baked yeast rolls, chocolate pie, and a warm crackling fireplace that welcomed family together as laughter filled the house.
A twinge of sadness overwhelms me this holiday season, however, as this will be the first Christmas without any of my siblings. My emotions have been very fragile the past few months, since the unexpected death of my oldest brother, which left me the lone survivor of the Fox family that was started on May 6, 1933.
My comments about books the past few weeks have generated interesting emails from readers, some of them out of state. Generally, they took sides in the ebooks vs. traditional books discussion. Younger readers favored the computerized books while older ones still prefer the printed format. One reader said she didnâ€™t want to give up paper books because she always embroidered book marks for Christmas and birthday gifts.
One might say the Barnetts have a thing for animals, both domestic and wild.
Upon entering Don and Jane Barnettâ€™s home, I am greeted with the warmth of Christmas. Among the sparkling ribbon and glittering mesh that mark the arrival of the holiday season is Smokey, a rescued cat, draped across the chaise lounge, while a sleekly coated pug, Mallory, nestles on a nearby rug.