The ever-energetic 91 year-old Georgie Bright Kunkel has a crowded home. That's because the stand-up comedienne, book author, and West Seattle Herald columnist, has accumulated over 75 dolls, both during her childhood, and travels abroad. She has about 60 displayed in her living room and dining room for Christmas.

"I don't collect certain 'valuable' dolls," Kunkel said. "I collect a mixture." Most are valuable for sentimental reasons. "For instance this one is called a '3-foot doll'."

She points to a large doll seated in a dark blue chair.

"I made this dress by hand for my daughter Susan when she was about three, when she was a flower girl," she said of the garment donned by the doll. "I brought the doll to Susan's wedding shower and sat her in a chair in the corner," Kunkel giggled wryly. She has another daughter, Kim, and a son, Steve, nine grandkids and nine great-grandkids.

"This is a vintage Miss America Barbie," she continued, moving from doll to doll. "And this is a marionette I got in Nepal but I can't work it." She lifted the puppet and its strings were a bit tangled. "Norman (her late husband) and I visited Nepal and Thailand. And this one is a kachina handmade by a friend in Arizona. This one I bought from a Korean vet at a yard sale in Kettle Falls for four dollars. Everyone thinks she's Japanese, but, you know, the Japanese and Koreans don't get along.

"This one is Russian. I got it from a Russian pen pal who came to visit us during the Goodwill Games. I have two Madame Alexander dolls." She chooses one. "This one must be 60 years old. Look at the little eyes. She's real cute.

"This is my oldest and ugliest," she said of a 100-year old small boy with molded head and leather-jointed legs. "My sisters played with it and then I ended up with it. And this funny little thing I got in a village outside of Vienna." It is a colorfully clothed bear. "They had a restaurant opening and the suppliers were invited and everyone came out with this bear. They found out we were from the U.S. and there weren't many tourists there so they gave it to us.

"These my mother made," she said of a pair that resemble Raggedy Ann and Andy. "She made them by hand and gave them to her grandkids. This one she made for me. She's kind of worn. My mother, Myrtia Bright, was from Chehalis, and the superintendent of schools in Lewis County when I was three years old. She had 10 other children, but lost one of my sisters before I was born, and my father, George, died before I was born. He had run for the same office but didn't win. I was named 'Myrtia George Ardelle Bright'."

Georgie was the youngest.

"My father helped my mother deliver all of their children until me because couldn't afford a doctor." (A doctor helped with Georgie's birth since her dad had passed.)

"I was considered a tomboy, but I hate that word," she said. "I would run, swing on trees. The kids all came to my yard because it was the biggest. We'd take these big cardboard boxes, put them over our head and hit each other blind. We'd play 'run sheep run' in a great big circle in the snow. The one in the middle was 'it'."

She has a 'special doll' she loves, "Patsy Ann" prominently displayed. Before she was born, her family got new neighbors in the hills of Lewis County where her family then lived. These neighbors relocated after leaving San Francisco because of the earthquake and fire of 1906. Their young daughter wore a red plush coat. When they left San Francisco there were shop owners with damaged stores and they gave away merchandise that was not ruined to the needy.

"Well, the neighbor handed my mother the little red plush coat," she said. "My sister wore it. Then it was my turn, at age 9, when she got older. When I outgrew it, it was placed in an old bag of clothes in the attic. That Christmas my mother cut it up to make the red plush coat for my 'Mama Doll'. The coat was then worn by 'Patsy Ann'."

Thanksgiving and Christmas are difficult for me," she said, missing Norman. "I tell people when I'm performing on stage that I feel like a bigamist since I have been dating my male companion. I never dreamt about my husband when we were together. It's the funniest thing. After he died I would get this essence in a dream, but no person. After I started dating again, my husband came in a dream, on a horse, and said, 'Get on. I'm taking you away.' Isn't that a kick! I think that's a hoot."