My favourite things: part the fourth

My mother has always had a collection of pretty little boxes, and I've inherited that appreciation. Carved wood, mother of pearl inlays, swirly art nouveau pewter... all beautiful. I twitch acquisitively in the mere presence of such little trinkets. Partly, I suspect, this is because (unlike my mother) I really do not like ornaments that are just ornaments. Form without function? Such a turn-off. Boxes are pretty, but also useful; at least that's the theory. There is a point, alas, at which a collection of pretty boxes becomes just clutter. So I've ruthlessly pruned the smaller boxes, and moved my jewellery and such into larger, more efficient organisers.

But there's still something about pretty boxes for their own sake; maybe the mystery and potential of them. Anything could be inside there.

These two are special. Both were (ahem) appropriated from my mother. The larger, wooden one, which I call my treasure chest, once held all my loose change; now it holds a selection of aromatherapy oils, matches and so on. The little metal one is the elephant kit (named, of course, for the not-visible-here picture on the lid). It was originally my grandfather's, and it still fulfils the same function it did two generations ago: it holds headache pills, plasters and so on.

The mirrored jar was a birthday present from pinkthulhu, and I think it's almost the perfect abstract model of a present: it sparkles and it smells like dessert!* Really, what more could a girl ask for? The fact that, when the candle burns out, it will be a luscious addition to my box collection is just a bonus.

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* Containing, as it does, a vanilla-scented candle.