This wooden box, with a sliding lid and a movable tray inside it, was handmade by either my uncle John or Frank. This was made when they were young joinery apprentices, as a demonstration of skills gained, presumably some time in the fifties, and before they both emigrated to Australia as "£10 poms". The image glued onto the side shows  men and women in  a gondola, clearly enjoying a romantic cruise. The colours of the box are the original ones, and the paint shows wear and tear. The stuck-on image is not really to my taste but when Mum gave the box to me, when I was a teenager, she asked me to promise not to repaint it and so I haven't. The box is used to store art materials which I rarely use, such as chalk and oil pastels, gouache paints, (the same set I've had since art school some 30 years ago), and a ridiculous quantity of HB pencils, (which I hardly ever draw with as the lead is wrong for sketching). The box sits at the back of my art table, half-buried under s

   Can a whole year have flown by already since we adopted Rosie and Jim? Well, yes, it has. And what a difference there is now with these two bundles of fun. When they first came to us, both were very thin and cautious. No wonder; they'd had a rough start to life, and then a period of life in kennels surrounded by other anxious dogs.  Rosie especially was quite timid. It has been lovely watching them gain confidence in their new home and in us. Jim settled in more quickly, but still doesn't like sudden loud noises or swift movements near to him. Rosie took longer to trust us, but now she's a complete cuddle-pot and doesn't think twice before clambering onto a lap for a snuggle. She starts off most games. She's currently in love with a ragged bit of cloth which is all that remains of a rainbow-coloured teddy bear. Jim is fond of dismantling toys...! We needed to do  lot of work with their behaviour when outside, as they were very reactive to other dogs, yapping fran