P is for Pencils.

My father whittled. He also got obsessive from time to time about little projects. So does my sister, but that's another story. He made a few of these little pencils and I loved them so much I gave them to most if not all my cow-orkers (thanks again Kitt for that wonderful way to spell cow-orkers) who of course all loved them too. This made my dad so happy that he went on a mass-production spree. Here are some of the results.

Adorable old match book covers from Mrs. K's Toll House, the older on the right. I ate there just 2 months ago.

Tchotchke Challenge, Letter O: Outhouses, miniature.

Hand-made by Geo. W. Winters.

The Tchotchke Challenge is evolving. Some might say dying, but I prefer "evolving."

Not even close to a Tchotchke, but I'm late and it starts with an N. Navaho rug, at least 90 years old, maybe older.

I'm pretty sure this rug wasn't used much before I inherited it a few years ago, but it gets plenty of foot traffic now and seems like a brand-new rug. Made by Navahoes who probably only thought in terms of "made-to-last." Maybe we're returning to that kind of society---slowly but surely. Such a problem: made-to-throw-away made us "rich." What happens to all those people who will lose their jobs if we return to made-to-last?
Origins of the Tchotchke Challenge.

M is for Magazines. Late entry for the Tchotchke Challenge.

Tomorrow I'll add dates and a few details about some of these magazines. Publication dates range from 1917 to 1984.

The Letter L: Letters, old.

Letters to and from my grandfather who was stationed in the Philippines in 19-aught-something or other. Note that he tells his sister to "give my 73 to all." A coded message whose meaning is lost to history.

Part of me is still here, on the Delaware shore.

I've missed the L day in the Tchotchke Challenge but I think I'll get to it soon.

Tchotchke Challenge entry for the Letter K. My Kinky Friedman action figure!

I've been waiting since the birth of the Tchotchke Challenge to get to the Letter K.

His batteries are dead but he used to say things like "May the God of your choice bless you." And "Hell yes, it's a Cuban cigar. But I'm not supporting their economy. I'm burning their fields."

I think of this as absolutely my most useless possession, and one that I paid good money for just because it made me laugh. (And this may be an example of why our economy has been jolted...because people like me buy -- or used to buy and now don't -- so much crap like this.)

Tchotchke challenge rules: On the first and fifteenth of each month, or thereabouts, I* post a picture of a tchotchke or tchotchkes beginning, roughly speaking, with that letter. For no reason at all.

*Other challengers include Nyack Lady and Chesapeake Bay Lady. All are welcome to join.

Jugs, jams, and jellies. My J entry in the alive-and-well Tchotchke Challenge.

These dusty jugs and jars will last a long, long time, but how long will these dusty jams and jellies last? All of the jams were gifts, some are home-made. I feel so guilty for not eating them. But the only way to eat jam is on a piece of bread slathered with butter. That's a lot of calories to eat jam. (Isn't "slather" a great word?)
The "I" letter report is now in from the Chesapeake Bay front and it's a good one. I love her sense of humor; it's slightly askew. (Another great word..."askew.")

I was supposed to post a "J" tchotchke yesterday, June 1, but didn't. Tomorrow. Probably.

I is for icebucket.

I've always loved this penguin icebucket. It was my mother-in-law's and it's probably 60 years old, if not older.* She gave it to me about 15 years ago because I complimented it so often. I guess she thought I was hinting. I don't know; maybe I was. [It's hard to take a picture of this without getting the photographer in the shot. Those handy handles helped however.]

update: some info on the Penguin ice bucket is here.

*Further update. It's not 60 yrs old. Could be 50 or could be 40 but not 60.

Our friend from Nyack has posted a most interesting entry for the Letter I.

Letter H (Late Tchotchke Challenge): Hats, Hatboxes, and Hummels

A Stetson.

My memory tells me that the old army hat below belonged to my grandfather Winters -- he was in the Army in the Philippines in 1904 or so. But it could also have belonged to my grandfather Elrick who was in France during WWI.

Hummels below. Both old. The little boy was a gift from my friend Sue, on the occasion of my high school graduation, back in the dim 60s. The little girl was in my dad's family. It says just "Germany" on the bottom (the boy has "West Germany" stamped on the bottom) so it's pre-World War II. I've always been bothered by the different proportions used for these figurines.

For some reason this entry makes me sad. The little boy Hummel is chipped (and too tall for his little girlfriend, which as I said before is weird), the hats once sat on the heads of my relatives but now live, forlornly, in the attic. Sort of the worst thing about keeping stuff...tchotchkes....in the first place. But it's stuff like this that I can't part with.

Tchotchke Challenge Letter G: Granny Glasses and Gus with Giraffes.

Not much story behind the giraffes or the glasses or Gus. The giraffes were carved by a Kenyan, the glasses are old and were among those collected by my pack-rat dad,* and the Gus is from heaven. Gus doesn't talk unless there's no one around. If he makes eye contact with a human, or even sees a human, he's mute. But once or twice a week, when he's around a corner with no humans in sight, or outside the closed bedroom doors at night when he can't see the sleeping humans, he wails and wails and wails. Mournful wails. But the minute you peek out the door, or around the corner at him, he stops. Strange. Just like all kitties are strange.

*Thanks for the gene dad. Not.

Rag Rugs. (As mentioned in my Letter F posting below.)

I was folding the laundry tonight and came across one of my grandmother's rag rugs. I studied it closely... I guess for the first time. It's obviously made of strips of fabric. I know she used a loom to make rugs but is this woven?? That loom is still in my grandmother's house, which is now my sister's house. She plans to use it one day. Just like I plan to get rid of that wallpaper in my fabric room one day.

Tchotchke Challenge Letter F -- Fabric and Fabric Balls

A relative--a grandmother or greataunt most likely--didn't let one scrap of fabric out of her hands. She ripped up long thin strips of fabric (old clothes I'm guessing), doubled them over, ironed them (at least it sure looks like they were ironed), sewed the long strips together, rolled them into balls, and then...what? Made woven rag rugs? braided them to make circular rugs? I don't know. Nor do I know what I'll do with them, but I'm thinking about getting some really big knitting needles and knitting them into something. Funky scarf? Afghan? The other fabric is a selection of the many disorganized piles and baskets of fabric I use for my quilts. (I can't wait until we get to Q.)
Oh yeah. That wallpaper. It was here when we moved in 23 years ago. I've always hated it. It's in a room we've never really use. Home decorating is not my strength. Obviously.

I see that our Nyack lady has outdone herself again.

Letter D Tchotchke Challenge: Drums

There may be more drums around this house but these were the ones close at hand. When Anne, of God Bless Y'All Read Good, suggested this Tchotchke Challenge she envisioned that we might post our pictures and add a little information on why we had so many of the Tchotchkes in question. I'm not too keen, yet, on long explanations (although this post is going that way I'm afraid...) but one reason drums have significance in this house is that my first-born child --- a "masculine child" (as Luco Brazi would say), and a musician, geographer, student, midnight-shift UPS employee, and occasional caregiver to the Alzheimer's lady next door; in other words an all-around great kid (just like his sister about whom I'll kavel in another post), was never baptized because his parents are basically heathens. BUT this masculine child was, at the age of 13, given a quite elaborate ceremony of introduction into the adult world by his Takoma Park Dance and Drum group, led by a very spiritual guy named, what else?, Stream. In those days, The Child and His Dad attended these weekly Dance and Drum meetings which were open to all and featured a couple of hours of drum banging, chanting, free-form dancing, and general good feelings in a church basement. When The Child turned 13, the group decided that he needed a kind of alternative bar mitzvah/baptism. It was great. To my eyes and ears (I attended the ceremony but was not a regular member of the group) it seemed like a Native American-style ritual; lots of references to Earth, Moon, Stars, Nature. The Child was painted up Indian-style, blindfolded, and guided through a maze of adults who were also drumming and chanting. Stream read passages from I-don't-know-what-but-wish-I'd-asked, and in the final act of the ceremony the women lined up to create a corridor for The Child to pass through. We each helped push him through the corridor and when he reached the end the blindfold was removed and he was now officially part of the adult community. I always thought of that female-corridor as the birth canal. We pushed this blind child into the light, just like the mothers among us pushed our blind infants down our birth canals ...am I getting too graphic? Forgive me. I get like that when thinking about the miracle of my kids.

Cicadas. Fully intact (although dead) cicadas, abandoned cicada "husks" [AKA exoskeletons; thanks to an alert reader] and cicada tunnels.

These are from The Great 2004 Cicada "Infestation." I didn't think of it as an infestation, with all those negative implications. I was thrilled to have them swarming all over the place, making racket and littering the sidewalks with their "husks." (Note to Pam: find out what the correct word is for "husk.") And here's a question: is it a Tchotchke if it stays in a drawer? Shouldn't a true tchotchke be on display?

For other C entries check out Chesapeake Lady and Nyack Lady.

A final word: I will try to be more original in the future, but when God Bless Y'all posted her Bugs for the B challenge I knew at that moment that I had to share my Cicadas.

Then there were three.

Happy to announce that Nyack Backyard is a new member of the Tchotchke Challenge group. On Feb 15 we will post pictures of our Letter C entries. I've already got mine picked out.

Apple Pencil Holder. My entry in the First Monthly Tchotchke Challenge.

You can read about the origins of this challenge over at God Bless Y'all Real Good. And you can then read about our revised schedule here.

And that's the way it will probably go with this particular Challenge. Rules may change weekly or daily. Because we are rebels. Can't you tell from our tchotchkes?

[And as a side event I'm going to find out how many different spellings there are for tchotchke.]