This image is suffering from a bug with either WordPress or the stupid Apple Photos app or both that turns images on their side despite trying to rotate them in either of the editors. It’s got worse: now I can’t even edit the image and rotate it in WordPress. Grrr but I think you get the picture.
It’s a box and it appeared outside my house yesterday morning. I think it originally contained a stainless steel flue liner but it’s making me nostalgic for when I was about three.
When I was a child I had hardly any toys, only the ones given by other people, because my parents wouldn’t have thought to buy any. (Contrast this with the ex-schoolmate of MsDD, who insisted on being given a new toy by both sets of grandparents and his parents EVERY WEEK.) So I made things with old boxes and Sellotape and paint, when I had it. My dad used to say, “Wasting Sellotape again,” which he thought was a joke.
But this inclination is even more primeval that that. I want to get in the box and glower at people. I want to play castles and defend my hilltop territory. I want my dogs and children to have fun playing with the box and saying things like “Halt! Who goes there?” or in Oscar’s case just woofing at anyone with the temerity to approach our front door.
Raffles would get lost in the box, I think. But I’d almost expect him to get in, lie down and go to sleep.
I wonder when the box will disappear on the skip, joining the wok that I set on fire (by mistake!) yesterday evening. That will be a shame.