Pages

Friday 15 February 2013

Tins, tins and more tins.

I love a good old rusty, dented tin and so it seems do a lot of you. So much more a glamorous receptacle for storing things in than a plastic box. Tins have been the ultimate in recycled packaging for a long time now; one of the first biscuit tins being designed for Huntley and Palmers in the 1860's.  People hold on to them, many ending up in sheds or lurking in attics stuffed with rusting nails or old buttons.


One of my favourite tins is one that I found in my grandmothers bedside drawer and in it were all manner of things that had been special to her. 


Ribbons from First communions tucked around pendants of the Virgin Mary. Rites of passage in a tin, carefully folded. I put it back in its drawer. There to stay.


Tins were often given as gifts with toffees or biscuits contained within, taken abroad to family members to remind them of home or as souvenirs. Their decoration has included everything from works of art to cartoon characters, budgies to kingfishers, rural scenes to kitsch photographs of floral arrangements.


I love nothing more than coming across a great big haul of tins in all shapes and sizes. Someone's collection, often with items still contained within.


Imagine my immense joy on purchasing all of these on a recent forage. Some were rusted shut. One had a shilling and a two-shilling coin nestled within.


One was filled with never used bandages still in their original 1950's packaging, for a never occurring emergency, but just in case.


One had neatly folded plastic shoulder guards to protect ladies clothes whilst washing their hair, together with a knitted hair cowl.



All kept in tins. Hidden away. To be opened again like a treasure chest on someones passing.





Saturday 2 February 2013

Chasing away those Winter blues, greys and blacks.

Winter is about getting a good regular dose of colour therapy. Take my latest window, 'Spring Greens', it says a lot about my current need for fresh vibrant colour. Colour is restorative, especially when the skies are overcast and the cold is biting. My fellow blogger Sussex Mama doesn't like the Winter. Like her I dream of allotmenting in the spring and summer months, nurturing the earth and soaking up the sunshine. February is a tough month, a no-mans land as months go. I dedicate this post to her and hope that this will get her through those grey days. See you up the allotment!







All pictures are courtesy of my own back garden, two summers ago; because we don't talk about last summer.