The marbles I bought for the blue room. Because they were pretty, cheap, fun, whimsical, throwaway trinkets and knickknacks. From time to time I would slosh them about in soapy water, dry them and rearrange them in different glass and ceramic receptacles.
When the time came to sort through stuff, it seemed to me that to treasure and hoard them and feel obliged to carry them through life would be a mistake and somehow against the spirit of marbles. I needed to part with them. I asked Iso if the Princeling, now nine years old, cared for marbles. I knew French kids still often played and treasured les billes.
Indeed he did, she said, and they were the only toys they were allowed to take into school.
I took a plain piece of the cotton fabric pieces that HHB had sent me, knitted a length of i-cord, and made a drawstring bag for them, and passed them on.
'He could lose them, you know,' Tom warned 'playing marbles is basically gambling.'
'They're beautiful, like jewels!' Iso, Princeling's mum exclaimed, when I gave them to her to give to him, 'I might have to keep them, not let him have them...'
That was a couple of months ago. Today we received a hand made card, with rainbows and kisses painted on it, and a careful message in English, in French cursive script, thanking me for the marbles and also for the jumper I knitted for his birthday - It's all hot. I love it* - a kind of gansey type thing which I didn't photograph before giving it to him, but it's this pattern, in a rather sober, grown-up, grey-green wool/alpaca blend which I hope isn't too drab, he's a chap who likes colour. I don't know if Iso had kept the marbles until his birthday, and I don't know if he will take them to school and be prepared to risk them all at one turn of pitch and toss. I rather hope so, if he wants to, and that they won't be too much of a treasure and a source of gratitude, obligation and anxiety, and that he'll romp and play in the jumper, dirty it, hole it and scuff it up until he grows out of it.
*chaud being both hot and warm, he has always tended to think in French and translate, so 'is it yours?' was expressed as ' is it at you?' a literal translation of 'est-ce que c'est à toi?'
6 comments:
I think I have a small stash of marbles around here that my loving wife gave me once so "I wouldn't lose my marbles."
I have a few marbles I've gathered and found, plus the ones I dug up in the front garden.
Those are beautiful, good to roll them on, let them circulate. Never truly lost.
Gorgeous blues, Lucy, and what a lucky child to receive such a gift! Hard to part with cherished treasures but also a very nice feeling if they end up recycled to exactly the right person.
i have always loved the feeling of finding that an object that has ceased to bring joy can bring joy to someone else. hanging on for old times' sake isn't really my way, but passing a treasure for someone else to enjoy! ah! that's a good feeling!
what a lovely selection of marbles and I like the idea of passing them on to someone else.
Thanks all. As Z said, they roll around!
Post a Comment