Never one to resist a pretty box, I had to bring this one home with me when I saw it in a charity shop a couple of weeks ago. The brightly painted peasant girl looks so carefree, straight out of a soviet era myth.
I would tell you all about it, but I can't read Cyrillic. Can anybody help, please? Pectopah is my limit. My mother in law used to write to her sister in Cyrillic script, proper joined up writing, but she is no longer with us.
The flowers on the side are especially pretty, because with the decoration on the lid, they needn't have bothered with the sides, but they did. It is a shame that the camera angle has played havoc with the right angles.
The box measures a little under 8 inches by 5 inches, and is perfect for keeping my circular knitting needles in, with stitch holders and nappy pins and a needle gauge. I shall never get used to the metric needle sizes, so the gauge is very handy because it shows the old sizes too. Why did a perfectly straightforward system have to be done away with, so a size 9 became two and three quarter millimetres? Thus speaks an old gal who learnt to knit over fifty years ago.