This weekend was my birthday weekend and it proved, despite being another year past 40, I have never grown up. I doubt I ever will and no one expects me too.
The jingle from the box would have given him away, even if I didn’t know who was inside. Anticipation had grown this week as my birthday crept closer. I felt the tell-tale sign of excitement deep in my stomach when I thought of holding him, feeling him and seeing him. It only increased when I saw the box. Finally, my very own Iggy.
Iggy came to life when I wrote about Amber’s early childhood. He was her beloved toy, her imaginary friend, confidante and though his role in this book is minimal he is important to her character development. Imagine my delight in seeing this cloth toy dragon in a shop window. It was if the toymaker had seen into my mind and created him just for me, for Amber.
Now he is mine. He may not be as bedraggled, threadbare or floppy as Amber’s Iggy but he is an inspiration and the kick up the bum reminder I need to stop procrastinating and finish this and other projects. He can glower at me over my laptop when I slack at writing.
I had other pressies to remind me my true age. Room on the Broom from WW. He took the fact I wanted a book to heart and knows I love witches so he had to buy it as “it is the most perfect book ever”. He isn’t a book lover but he is right – it is a perfect book in its prose, plot, characters, and illustrations. No one is too old to enjoy Room on the Broom by Julia Donaldson.
Finally, I was given Winnie-the-Pooh Exploring a Classic by Annemarie Bilclough and Emma Laws book. I missed the exhibition at the V and A but my daughter and best friend didn’t. This was a surprise gift and it looks amazing.
I only hope Iggy can work his magic like Christopher Robin’s bear did for A.A Milne.
Time to write.
Also published on Medium.