Is it broken?

I used to make jewelry from plastic, hollow "beads" when I was little. The "beads" looked like the little lozenge candies that came, stacked, in a cellophane wrapper (not "Red Dots" and not "Necco" wafers). When one undid the cellophane wrapper, all of the aspirin-sized candies fell out of their tightly wound stack.

I spent hours stringing together bracelets and necklaces. A few years ago, when Mom and I were organizing some tchotchkes, I opened a lidded, lacquer bowl from Russia. Stored inside the bowl were my plastic beads. Resting alongside the beads was a broken, plastic fish line that I had used to thread the jewelry.

You never know what you'll find when you start digging around in old boxes!

Suburban Chicago, Winter 1960. I inspect a broken bracelet. Uh oh. I've thrown the receiver off the telephone. I'd better fix that quickly, or there will be real trouble!

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Verona, Wisconsin, March 2012. I went downstairs tonight, and I found the bowl.

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Verona, Wisconsin, March 2012. Good things stay where they belong.