Generally my Wednesday 'orphan' posts feature something precious, rare, unique, or particularly valuable to me. I've used these Orphan Wednesdays to share my antique Singer sewing machine, a one-of-a-kind Craftsman sideboard, a 125-year old crazy quilt piece, a post-Civil War patent model, and other like treasures. So, here I am today, sharing a funky 1940s-era Handy Andy lunchbox. A humble blue lunchbox, that was probably carried by a housepainter or contractor. Tiny flecks of white paint indicate that perhaps this lunch pail sat near a new house being built, or in a room freshly painted. I like to imagine the painter's wife, packing him a hearty lunch to take to the work site every day.
The reason that I think it's worthy of sharing with you today, is because of sentimental value. I picked this little gem up many years ago, when I was a student at Brigham Young University in Provo Utah in the early 1970s. I probably bought it at one of Provo's many thrift stores, I don't remember which. But it looked to be the perfect box to keep my art supplies, and as an avid 'junker', it suited my artistic and rustic sensibilities. I carried it through many classes: painting, drawing, figure drawing, print making. I carried in it drawing pencils, technical drawing pens, bottles of india ink and Dr. Martin dyes. At one time I had a bottle of magenta glass paint, which spilled inside, forever adhering one of my Koh-i-Noor rapidograph pen nib keys to the inside of the lid. Of course, being a child of the '60s, I attached a Chiquita Banana sticker to the outside.
So, just for old time's sake, I share my old blue lunch pail with you.
|You can see the remnants of the glass paint, and the pen nib key stuck in the lid|
|Me, the art student, during my blue lunchbox years!|