My Trunk and Me

This post will be more about the container than the things inside it. You can see that I have successfully located thew whereabouts of my Tinker Toys (though I will admit that those are the ones I asked for in middle school, during my 'never gonna grow up' phase. Also living in the trunk are several  Star Wars items, including a lightsaber I believe I inherited (from a friend who eventually lost interest) and a miniature Death Star, something of an inside Script joke from my high school friend J. There's a naked doll (there are clothes for her somewhere) with an awful perm and a doll blanket that my or may not have been one of my baby blankets. There's a Garfield window stuffed animal, that was never, I believe, stuck onto a window, but rather dragged around by me as a child during the interlude where my family did not own a cat. There's some sandals in the back, the Greek wrap-around-your-leg kind that I had always wanted and wound up locating at Ross during a shopping trip with two unlikely guy friends. It turns out those types of sandals are not at all practical, the strings do not stay on your legs. Also included is a doll hammock (to be put to good use ... someday) and a denim skirt that is falling apart and no longer fits me, but my parents made if for me, so I keep it.

Okay, now that that's over with, onto the trunk itself. I love it. I've always had it - I really ought to inquire about its origins. When I was small, my dad put a pneumatic sort of rig on it, so it wouldn't slam shut, but rather be lowered slowly once tilted down - the better to not lose small fingers. As a child, having a trunk made me feel like I was from the nineteenth century, a kid of olden days with all my belongings in one heavy wooden box. It was quite romantic.

Over the years the trunk has gone from being a place of storage, to a bedside table, to a dresser, and now back to basic storage. The thing that kept it from slamming shut has fallen off, but as I am no longer five, I'm less likely to slam it on one of my fingers (only less likely, of course - you never know). The trunk has held up surprisingly well, even when it itself was in storage while I was in college, living in a family friends garage, up on a sort of loft. How I got it up and down that ladder ... I seem to have selectively forgotten that memory ...

Anyway, I love the trunk. I suppose it is one of my more precious items, now that I think about it. Seems kinda big for one, but there you go.