First love ii

 …continued…

One magnificent Christmas, Father Christmas left beside our stockings, the wondrous delights of a Dream Castle for me, and Show Stable for Eve. I doubt you could have found two more contented little girls in the whole of England that Christmas. There is a photo of us both sitting beside these huge plastic contraptions, with grins on our little faces that threaten to split our faces in two.
Blossom was over-loved. I was too young to appreciate her. All my little ponies come with a ribbon and a small brush or comb. The ribbons were lost. The combs were trodden on, left in the garden overnight, and chewed experimentally. Plastic hair never keeps that wondrous shine that it has in the packet, when they’ve placed a layer of cellophane over it to keep it fresh. It tangles. And unlike real hair there are no deep conditioners to placate it with.
I tried to paint gold horse-shoes on Blossom’s feet with my mum’s gold pen, and smudged her a bit. An evil child (I use the word ‘evil’ advisedly) in my class pressed plasticine into her mane when I wasn’t looking, and a portion of it had to be cut out. I wept inconsolably. In a moment of utter madness I wrote my initials, R-T-T across her back in pink felt pen. I regretted it almost instantly and washed her in vain for weeks. There were other ponies. Posey was particularly beautiful in a kind of flashy blonde way. Starshine had wings, and rainbow coloured hair, and the design on her rump was a large star in glitter.
But I always remember Blossom in particular, because my desire for a my little pony was so tangible and extreme, and the satisfaction when my mum went out, against her better judgement, and bought her for me, was so complete. That evening, playing a game where Blossom and Bow-Tie went out and played in a farmer’s field, and were caught and hung up by their tails, that evening I think I was perfectly totally happy with my lot.
I should have kept Blossom. I’m sure if I had she would be in a pile of junk somewhere, taking up space in our tiny flat that we don’t have. I know you can’t keep all your toys. And I certainly enjoyed playing with the pirate lego that was bought with the proceeds of the car-boot-sale my-little-pony-purge.
But I would like to have her around. Like an old friend. I think she’d like to see how far I’ve come. 

with love – and apologies for my recent radio-silence,

therumtumtugger

xxx