Memory Chest

As we're in the season of introspection and sentimentality, I made the fatal mistake of rummaging through the attic. Half a lifetime's worth of 'stuff'.

When I was younger, a friend made me a memory chest, which he felt sure I would one day fill. The problem with gathering memories, however, is that there is very little time in between to arrange them neatly.

My aim these past few days has been to sort through the indecorous plastic bags into which I had thrown these memories. Armed with a large glass of Courvoisier, half a ton of Pritt Stick, and a heavy-duty stapler, I set about scrapbooking the past fifteen years. A period spanning college, university, several changes of address, a lengthy period of domesticity, university (again) and eventually a plane ticket to Africa.

It was a very large glass of Courvoisier.

Below are some pictures of the process. Over the next few weeks I will share a few of my favourite finds under the tag 'Memory Chest'.

Pritt Stick and Courvoisier.
Two essential ingredients.

The task at hand.

It started sensibly.

And got progressively sillier.

Remember this?
It's what communications looked like before e-mail.

This is what a blog used to look like.

And here's how you password protect it.

You can fit a lot into a few pages.

An entire year in Australia = one scrapbook.

But can you fit an entire lifetime into one chest...

Just about. But I'm either going to have to stop having adventures, or buy a second chest.

At some point I'd love to find a friend who does pyrography. It would be beautiful to have the chest decorated. Though I'm in no hurry. As with the making of it, it would need to be someone fairly special to undertake such a task. Memories have to be meaningful, after all.