Tops, Toys and Plastic Mysteries of Childhood

I was thinking about the top – the toy that is. I remember sitting on the floor, concentrating on pushing the handle up and down, watching the horses do a run around the obstacle course inside the plastic bubble. The faster the handle went, the faster the horse went, it was fascinating! My toys were simple and few in number. One white plastic poodle that reminded me of rice pudding – hence loved dearly. One scratchy bear stuffed with wood chips. One plastic creature with a blue body and a giant orange head. (I still don’t know what that was). One stuffed bunny with an orange shirt, often making cameo appearances in childhood photos. The shortage of toys during the Soviet years almost seemed like a plot to promote reading, and in some cases imagination and creativity in future engineers, doctors, rocket scientists, and even artists and designers. At six, I was making puppet goats out of paper, and nailing wooden boards together to make a boat. In the spring, I set sail with an empty match box in the mini “river” that ran in the space between the concrete road and the sidewalk. I’d follow it all the way around the neighborhood until it would reach its final destination and disappear in the drain. I didn’t have much, but whatever I had seemed to be enough.

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