Picking

I've always loved collections.  Collections really tell stories about the person who collects.  I have a Raggedy Ann collection.  It started, as all collections do, with just one.  Given to me on my first or second Christmas by my grandfather.  She's a beauty - an original musical Knickerbocker with the flowered dress who plays Pop Goes the Weasel.  Annies were popular in the 70s and I was smitten with all things bearing her signature red circle cheeks and triangle nose.  Each stage of my life, I "rescued Raggedys" - not mint in the box Raggedys, but very much loved ones that looked like they had their own story to tell.   Bart and I even trekked a few hours away to the Raggedy Ann Festival in Arcola, IL - the tiny, one-stop light town that was the home of her creator, Johnny Gruelle and therefore, the birthplace of Ann.

Annies cleaned and returned after the fire.

Caroline collects cupcake picks.  The perfect collection - part of something she loves (cupcakes), cheap or free to collect and small to store.  Her favorite picks of the 350+ in her collection were stored in a shadowbox in her room.  Aside from her American Girl dolls, it was what I wanted most from her things to survive the fire.  Sadly, the prized picks in the shadow box were never seen again.  The others were individually cleaned, returned to us and then soaked in pure lemon juice and were salvaged.   What I love about her collection is that she knows where every pick came from.  Bradley's 5th birthday, 3rd grade Halloween party, Gigi and Pop, etc.  They are tiny reminders of her relationships and the many moments that those people around her thought about her and saved their pick.

Today, we headed out to find a source for picks - to beef up the collection while we wait to eat more cupcakes.  Armed with her own personal budget of $2, we headed out and found her new heaven.  Check out this selection of individually sold picks:

To say we were giddy does not begin to tell the story.  Remember when 15 cents bought you a longed for treasure?  I just realized that there's not even a cent sign on my keyboard.  Sad.

Thanks bake shop, for having rubber animals for Owen, replacement cake topper baseball players for William and the amazing buffet of cupcake picks.   One more step to healing.  It's icing on our cake. (sorry, but you know I had to say it!)