Time held me green and dying...

Let me tell you about my mother... She's lived in the same house for 59 years, and she never throws anything away. Well, that's not strictly true- she puts out the rubbish just like everybody else, but she has this definite tendency to hoard things. When I was a small boy this had a very strange effect on me- everyday worn out objects, which she had kept for years beyond their usefulness, assumed the air of artifacts on which our stability and well being depended. An old butter knife with a broken horn handle, a cracked hairbrush, a worn out old toothbrush in a glass- everything had its sacred place. She still has drawers full of objects of uncertain provenance , tablets of French chalk, half a stick of sealing wax, that I cannot imagine she could ever live without.
On a positive note of course this means that from time to time some treasure from my childhood crops up.
Here's a topical one...

Pinned to my bib by my cousin in 1966 and still making a 4 yearly appearance in the Walker household.