My Pal Spoolie

Day 102: Meet Spoolie, one of my best childhood friends. He was made for me by my mother when I was about seven and has managed to survive countless moves, being in storage, and other forms of inadvertent abuse. He had a hair transplant and a facelift about thirty-five years ago because his smile was faded and he suffered dreadfully from split ends, but at the core of it, he's the same fellow I loved more than any of my other playmate dolls. He's been on bike rides and backyard campouts. He's gone rock collecting and berry-picking. He's kept me company on many a cold winter night when I was snugged up under the covers reading a book. Who could resist that irrepressible grin?

Spoolie's life and spirit are in his assembly, the warm feel and color of the wood animating him with its magic. They don't wind thread onto wooden spools these days, and more's the pity. Plastic spools simply wouldn't do for a creation like my pal.