In my neverending stacks of plastic bins a colorful part of my childhood was stored.  Yes, the “dolls from around the world” had been waiting to be discovered again for fifty-eight years.

I was very happy to see them.  Maybe unearthing the past is actually fun after all.

Barbie and two Breyer horses were also in the box.  Some of you might recognize this early Barbie (circa 1960-61).  I sewed a lot of clothes for her out of scraps from my mother’s and grandmother’s sewing boxes. She was a good friend.

The Breyer stallions will be bid a fond farewell and listed on Ebay. They’re still gorgeous, but I know of no horse-mad little girls who would love and care for them so off the stallions will go.

The collection of souvenir dolls was created by my Navy father, who bought them at various ports-of-call before I was born.  Some of his Navy friends joined in, so for years the collection grew.  From Hawaii to New Zealand, China to Israel, Italy to Mexico to Haiti and more.  They hung from pink yarn on my bedroom wall.

Banjo Man suggested I display them again and use the old cabinet (it once held razors in an East Providence barber shop) to do so.

Banjo Man is a genius.

Here’s a start.

And more to go:

I’m trying to be very quiet this morning as Banjo Man has gone back to bed.  Exhaustion has hit him hard these past couple of days and he needs more rest.  I won’t be rearranging dolls or moving shelves or experimenting with ideas to attach them to the cabinet until later.  This afternoon I will drive my tired husband to the dump and the grocery store (he is determined to take advantage of a sale on oranges and won’t let me shop for him).  He has seven more radiation treatments left, but has been warned that it will take a while after that to recover his stamina.

It took me a year to feel “normal” again.  It was frustrating, somewhat embarrassing, hard work.  But Banjo Man will be back to his energetic self eventually.

I keep reminding him there’s no hurry.  He’s doing just fine.