Teddy mania again

July 14, 2012

Teddy mania again

I know we had a teddy post yesterday but you have to admit the kit was cute and the bears did need a second showing.

The kit used is Dawn Inskip's new Beary Special collection which is still on offer at her Scrapbookgraphics store and today's bear is one who is very much still here with me, though he looks a lot different than in the photos on the page.

Meet Flat. Yes - that's his name. He actually never really had a name - just known as Teddy - but he earnt the name Flat later in life when he was, well, flat!

I had him when I was just three years old, along with the giant panda - called Chi Chi of course - and I loved him. I actually had two of them, identical. And this is where the story takes an all too familiar sad turn. I slept with both of them and they became a little worn but no less loved. When I was 14 I went on holiday with my parents and it was our first ever trip abroad. We went to Majorca and one of my bears came too. I couldn't sleep without a bear. So he had a very nice week in Majorca and in fact, he enjoyed himself so much he decided the life of sun sea and sand was for him rather than the drab grey of England and so he made a bid for freedom. When we were packing he hid, deep down in the bed. He buried himself amongst the sheets and wouldn't be seen even when Mommy did her careful check of our room. He just hid and waited knowing that some little Spanish girl would fall in love with him. He wasn't at all worried about me as he knew his twin brother was back in England ready to care for me.

So he stayed! In Majorca! On his own! For ever!

I can't tell you how upset I was at the time. However he was right. His twin did fill a gap and he still sleeps with me now. He is almost completely flat, has lots of bare patches (no BARE patches not BEAR patches) and leaks the occasional bit of foam stuffing. But he is well and truly loved and cherished and, in every sense, he is REAL.

So here is the page - the start of a love affair.

And I end witht his quote from The Velveteen rabbit - one of my favourite stories. If you don't know it do read it. It is lovely

“Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.'

'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit.

'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.'

'Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked, 'or bit by bit?'

'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”
― Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit

Today I am thankful for

teddies - again
school holidays and time to relax and scrap

and here is my page a day calendar for today

I live with my wife, Danelle, and two children in a small log house on 20 acres in Vermont. We bought the place eight years ago, thinking that we would walk in the woods every day, summer and winter, exploring the flora. But for the first several years that we lived in our idyllic setting, we spent less time there than we did in our cars.

Two years ago, Danelle and I were working in the garden in early spring. While pulling the old growth of the previous season, we began talking about our next vacation. Should we take the kids to California or to a dude ranch in Colorado? Then we looked around the yard and the woods. The sun was beaming through the birches; the early morning mist was rising in the hills behind our house. Birds were flitting to and fro, already hitting the feeders.

“We’re always planning the next place to go. Why don’t we just stay put this year?” Danelle said.

So that’s what we did. We finally planted the entire garden, went for long walks, relaid a stone walkway, transplanted trees. It was our best summer ever.

Later that year, we tried the same tactic in our marriage. “Let’s turn off the television in the evenings and spend more time talking,” Danelle said. Evening after evening, we looked at each other and discussed what was important in our lives. We set goals. We dated. A marriage that had been slowly ebbing away became one that was coming back together.

Sometimes the best opportunities are sitting close by, only waiting to be noticed.