Crabs

I bet today's title had you all a bit worried and wondering what

was coming next, but you have no need to fear.
Given my current state of immaculate celibacy there
is no danger of pthirus pubis attacking my nether regions
either now or in the forseeable future.  Although I'm still
in the market for the odd stray dog so I can't rule ticks entirely
out of the equation.

Crabber on Cromer Beach with his catch.  Yum, yum!

Today, although a Leo by birth, I shall be nipping over the cusp and
likening myself to the good old crab.  In fact Cromer crabs are a
particularly delicious delicacy of this region I now call home.

I feel a certain affinity with this creature because it can shed it's shell
at will and immediately produce another, slightly larger, version
to accomodate it's growing needs.  Now here's where the comparison
kicks in.  I do exactly the same with sewing boxes!

Soon outgrown.

As a child I started out, like most of us do, with an old biscuit
tin, some scissors, a couple of needles and some old threads of
hideous hues which had been passed on because no one else liked
the colours so they were good enough for a wain to play with.

Artist's impression - original long gone.  Hats off, minutes silence please.

It soon became apparent that I was in need of something a little
more capacious and was fortunate enough to find an old folding box
at a jumble sale which I bought with my pocket money.
I later found out why it was going so cheap when my mother
discovered it was full of wood worm and immediately demanded that
it be put on the bonfire before "that beastly child" (me) infests the
entire household.  There seems to be a theme developing here!



Now where shall I put this lot?

I progressed on over the years through all the fashions and fads
- orange plastic (sixties), oak finished Jacobean'ish (eighties),
an entire chest of drawers (1987-2014) until yesterday.

Yesterday I moved in to a detached wooden coffer with no en suite
or cooking facilities. as yet, but I will probably need to apply for
planning permission to extend later in the spring as it's pretty full already!

The Rolls Royce of sewing boxes

Ladies, gentlemen and people who are into wood, may I proudly present
"the old oak chest".  An old silver coffer which started life in the
1800's in the vaults of my father's bank in Knightsbridge, London
and which I have now declared the "must have" sewing accessory
of 2015 for the serious needleworker and her stash.