Sunday, 28 December 2014

Containing myself

The thing about Christmas goodies is that a lot of them come in 'added value' packaging.  They have cute boxes or tins with pretty pictures, and I always think to myself, well, that is bound to come in useful.

They don't come in useful.  The biscuit tins and the tins of sweets and the fancy soaps all leave their boxes behind - and they breed.  They sit on shelves gathering dust and multiplying.  They clog up shelves and the backs of cupboards and I never seem to really use them.  I have a gorgeous sort of roll thing that I got smellies in from father years ago.  The smellies went a long time ago but the roll has been a fixture ever since, holding stitch holders, safety pins and tape measures ever since.  That is an exception.

A few years ago I threw out about a dozen biscuit tins, relics of Christmas and gifts from well meaning friends.  Nothing happened.  The earth did not open and I did not discover a zillion things that needed to be organised in tins.  An awful lot of them end up donated to Nice Mr Next Door (his wife is going to hunt me down and take dreadful revenge for the increase in his clutter one day) to hold screws and things.  I still end up tempted.

The thing this year that is calling to me is the wooden box that is currently holding the ravaged remains of chocolate ginger.  It is a cute, softwood box with a pretty design on it.  It would be such a shame to throw it out.  However I have been fooled like that before.  The box has thirty days to find a use, then it is out.  The clock is ticking.

Thank you for the good wishes.  Father has pneumonia but is looking better.

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