Chocolate in my blood...

Last week I wrote about my mother's button tin. At the same time I was snapping her buttons (so to speak), I took a photo of the tin where she keeps other sewing bits and pieces.

This beautiful tin is probably also over 50 years old. If you look at the side, you'll see that it is a Nestle tin, so presumably in some distant past was full of chocolates.

And that brings me to an interesting point. Before my mother left work to have children, she worked for Nestle in Hobart. There were "seconds" of chocolates to bring home on a Friday afternoon and a general all-round chocolateyness in her day-to-day existence.

Is it any wonder that I feel the way I do about chocolate?

I'm just saying...