At Christmas, I found a delightful button tin in Oxfam, that had more than a hint of 1940s utility about it. I pounced, brought it home, only to have overlooked the fact that my cantilevered sewing box has a maximum height of 1 ¾” per tray. Foiled.
This hardly constitutes a national emergency, but whilst doing a little mending yesterday, the fit came upon me to find a more suitable button tin. Maybe something with ‘Gold Flake’ or ‘Gee’s Linctus’ written on it.
Being a child-free weekend, I had the mother of all lie-ins this morning. I dozed intermittently through The Archers Omnibus, snuggled pleasantly through Desert Island Discs and finally emerged winking and blinking into the light of an overcast noon. I made a lovely plate of Egg Florentine (you see, I do eat my own recipes) and settled down to watch a wonderfully romantic 1945 film called, ‘I Know Where I’m Going’ starring a young Wendy Hiller and the delightful Roger Livesey.
Then I started to feel a little lazy. I ought to go for a walk, get some air in my lungs, burn a couple of inches off .. well.. anywhere really. Then suddenly I had the overwhelming feeling that today I was going to find my special button tin. But I wanted to finish the film. Then I remember that I had it on DVD in a Powell & Pressburger boxed set, if you please.
I jumped up, bunged a bit of lippy on and headed for the Harborough Antique Market. I searched and searched but no tin. There was a small ‘Players’ tobacco tin but it was scratched and dull and simply didn’t fit the bill. I tore myself away, managing not to buy a silver-topped, cut-glass claret jug that was calling to me, and trudged sadly home.
When I went to pick up The Boys, I told The Father of My Children about my Button Tin Sadness, knowing that he would understand. “Mmmmm”, he said, and disappeared upstairs. He came down proffering a small chocolate tin which had been produced by Cadbury Bournville to commemorate the Queen’s Coronation. “Would this do, do you think?”
I fell sobbing with gratitude at his feet, murmuring my thanks like Jenny Agutter in the ‘Railway Children’. And here it is.