I have a tendency to become obsessed with certain things. Crayola crayons, fancy schmancy soaps, candles. Grosgrain ribbons, brads, and decorator sprinkles for cookies and such. And the cookware… I remember as a bride-to-be registering for a lot of cookware that I laugh about now…an asparagus steamer, a meat grinder, a sausage maker (I mean really, who registers for that?), and a pasta machine so I could make all my own raviolis by hand. (Remember, I’m very savvy in the kitchen). I can’t even imagine using that stuff now. But I’d still like to have it. Just in case.
There is one other thing I carry a teensy little obsession for…marbles. I like their roundness. I like the bright colors. I like how colorful and fun and nostalgic they are. And I like the memories that rush through me when I see jar packed full of them.
When I was a girl, we would drive up to my grandmother’s house in Ridgeway, Pennsylvania every Thanksgiving. I loved those trips. My grandmother had kept all sorts of my dad’s old toys. I remember a bag full of plastic army soldiers, and tin toys, and a pair of spurs that I wore around on my shoes for days. And she had marbles. Lots of marbles.
My brother, sister and I would sit and spread the marbles out and take part in an elaborate game of selection. We each had our favorite marbles and those were always the first chosen. Eventually, we had divided them up (relatively) evenly among ourselves. Then we put them in those old margarine tubs…you remember those? Big yellow tubs with daisies on the sides — as big as cool whip containers they were. We would put them in these containers and spin the marbles around in there.
How loud that must have been.
It makes my shoulders go up when I think about three children simultaneously spinning marbles around in plastic tubs.
Anyhoo…the other day I was contacted by someone at AllChildrensFurniture.com about reviewing a product. After all, I am read by TENS of readers every.single.day you know. So I agreed, and began to peruse their site for something to review. Yes, they sell kids furniture, but they have so much more. I was waffling back and forth on a few different things, until I saw them.
Lots -o- marbles. I believe I may have heard angels sing.
And that was it. I had to have the marbles. Ridiculous, I know.
I wonder how I’ll keep my children away from them.
Because they will be mine.
Oh, I kid. I’ll share them, of course.
They are bright and swirled with color and appear very tempting. Especially to people like me who have ridiculous obsessions with items that are totally useless to them.
They won’t be antique. They won’t be my dad’s. But I think I’m going to like them anyway.
I’ll be sure to let you know. Now, all I need is a few of those old margarine containers. And maybe some earplugs.