I love Christmas. For years I've been collecting toy soldiers (130 at last count, including 4 seven-footers), wreaths, dogs in Santa suits, tree ornaments, festive dishes and glasses, Mrs. Claus dresses for dolls, cones, tree stands, lights, sheet music, fake snowflakes, elves, and sleighs. There are bears who sit on my front steps every Christmas, those who sit on the entry stairs, and bears who sit on coffee tables. I have pastry chef bears who adorn the kitchen during the holidays, and one who has a little cast on his front leg. (I imagine he went skiing during the holidays, so I keep him in my office, where I can keep an eye on him. I count on him to keep an eye out to make sure the garland for the left side of the staircase doesn't end up on the ride side. He has a good eye). You name it, and I have it.
Anyone having a birthday party? I have dozens of boxes of streamers, candles, tablecloths, hats, cake platters, cake recipes, and more. I love birthdays.
I also love babies. That's why I still have the beautiful Royal prams Barbara Stanwyck gave Tori and Randy when they were babies. I can't walk by them without smiling.
I've quoted a lot of books in this book. Oh, boy, do I have books and magazine and videotapes and DVDs! There are hundred of boxes of those in the attic. (I don't have to estimate how many there are in the rest of the house, do I?)
I love my books. There's everything from Dick and Jane primers to a college physics textbook that a houseguest left behind, from directories of Hollywood unions to home decorating books, from caring for orchids to child care.
My Photoplay magazines are kept in order, in plastic, proudly on display on special shelves. They are Hollywood history. They deserve a place high above all else, up, up, and away.
The attic houses various sizes of tapes and DVDs of every television show and movie my husband ever made, plus extra scripts, notes, photos, memorabilia (anyone for a 90210 lunchbox or a Vega$ poker chip, a Charmed book bag or a cast portrait of Charlie's Angels?).
In order to explain why I have shelves and cabinets full of carefully organized boxes representing my husband's work, let me recap that he produced more television than anyone in history. In 1983, the Guinness Book of World Records saluted Aaron by naming him the "most prolific" television producer in history because of his astounding 3, 842 hours of television shows. Guinness determined that someone could watch prime time seven nights a week for three and a half years without ever seeing a rerun of an Aaron Spelling show. That was in 1983. Now it's more than 4,500 hours of programs. That's why I have hundred of boxes in the attic, plus rooms full of his awards, honors, favorite photos, original scripts, and shows throughout the house. I love my husband's work.
There's a hair salon in the attic. Why is it in the attic? We forgot to make room for it in the house. I like it. It's near one of the stairways and has a barber pole outside that used to make my husband laugh. The place is decorated like an old-style salon, with pictures of all the hairstyles from the fifties and sixties that, for some reason, we all thought were flattering and fun.
Oh, and there's a gift-wrapping room.
I know, I know. I wrote about how my gift-wrapping room is adjacent to my office on the first floor.
Well there's a second gift-wrapping room in the attic.