Boxes

   I use boxes of all shapes and materials as a means of storing things. Sewing items are kept in large plastic stacking boxes, buttons are kept in plastic sweet boxes (I had a friend who worked in a sweet shop), zips are stored on a box that once contained a gas mask! If an item comes in a box then I always try and visualise a new use for the said box. Sometimes a use comes to mind straight away- otherwise I keep the box until a use presents itself .

   When I purchase footwear I always ask for the box as they are an ideal size for storing upright dressmaking patterns or DVDs. I feel rather guilty if I have to dispose of a large box...but even then if it's very large I'll cut it into pieces and keep some for Don to keep pieces of jigsaw on them. The sides of the garage are ' lined ' with a large piece so that I can open the car door without damaging it. (reminds me I need a new piece sometime...).

   On the bookcase I have two grand storage boxes devised from one larger box that contained an oil filled radiator where I stand up a collection of OS maps. Now here I might add that I've always intended to cover the storage with fablon  or nice paper, but I've never got round to it.

   Why only a couple of days ago a friend gave me a portable alarm , and since I already have one , I required a wee box to keep the bits in. Cue the hall cupboard where such boxes lurk...and " hey presto"...a box of just the correct size (another reminder ...I need to label it so I know what it contains).

   Of course, just occasionally, a mystery box turns up - some gift -contents unknown - usually around Christmas time. The expectation is intriguing, but I always resist the temptation to look before the due date and store the box as near to my miniature Christmas tree as I can. So on the day I carefully open it and not only do I cherish the gift within, but yes , I cherish the box too.

   Members of our group know that I have an archive of pieces that I wrote many years ago and they are treasured , having survived all these years in a box -- a box that once contained a gift given to me by a friend of my Dad's.  This gift was a dressing table set for my 16th birthday. Well, the gift no longer survives....but the box does. Quite how it's come with me through the years from one end of the country to the other, and back again twice , I'm not sure....but it has. I'm really grateful for that, as it's a link to my past. A past that was cleared out by my parents when I left home .....

   Anyway I guess I'm a recycler of boxes. They keep things in order. Keep things neat. Keep them handy. Keep them safe. Keep secrets at Christmas.....

   The piece I have for you this week was written in 2014. I was waiting at the bus stop in Cleveleys and a wee lad was pestering his Mum as to the contents of the box she was carrying.

At The Bus Stop

'What's in the box, Mum?'

"You'll have to wait and see"

'What's in the box,Mum.

Is it something nice for me ?'

'What's in the box,Mum -

Whatever can it be?'

What's in the box , Mum.

Is it something nice for tea ?'

'What's in the box, Mum ?'

"Oh you do annoy me!"

'What's in the box ,Mum-

Mum-Mum....?'

"Here comes the bus now,son-

You'll see when we get home."

Thanks for reading this week-  ( reminder - I need to sellotape the corners of the old box containing my poems ....)