My Cigar Box Collection!

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Hello everybody!

Does anybody remember a blog post I did back in January, where I talked about a cigar box that my dad gave me one afternoon and I decided to put my papaw’s rock collection in it? Well, if you don’t, I called the post “The Treasure Box” and at the time I thought that was going to be the only box I would be given from my dad, but I was wrong! Since then, I was manged to have three more and yes, I have started my own little cigar box collection on accident!

Just so we’re all on the same page, I don’t smoke cigars or cigarettes! I just like the heavily decorated boxes! My mom told me, “you certainly have a lot of cigar boxes for a person that hates smoking!” It’s true, but I don’t advocate for it though! And I recently said that I just got rid of a bunch of boxes I’ve used for storage for my bookshelf and I keep getting these suckers! Oh, well!

Okay, the first box I am going to talk about is my biggest box so far! It is a white rectangle box with a thin wrapping all around the top of it. The brand of cigars that my dad likes the most are Cubans, of course! This brand is called “My Father Cigars” and it seems to be in production since 1922 and out of the boxes, this is probably my favorite because the top section below is just beautiful! Very elegant despite the fact that what was stored inside of it was tobacco!

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It might look great on the outside, but unfortunately it does have a couple of downfalls about it. One is the fact that every box has a latch in the front to “lock” the boxes and this one does not close all the way and so the latch is basically useless! The other bad part of it is that it is very thin. You have to store anything that is flat, so that’s why in my bookshelf tour post I did has it down on my lower shelf because it basically has all of my un-important items that I don’t use a lot of the time!


The second (or third) box if you will! I want to say it is the same size of the first box. It’s just not as fancy whereas the treasure box has a more sheen to it and this one isn’t, but I’ll get to that in a minute! The brand of this one is called Nica Puro (I have no idea what it means!) and you see the number “1685” on the box and you automatically think that it would mean a year started production, but I have a theory that it just might be part of the brand itself since it has those numbers all around the border of the box! Like I said, it’s just a theory, nothing’s set in stone here!

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Unlike the white one, it’s not even as decorated as the white one so that part kind of sucks but I do use it for more things because it has more room. I have some cards and envelopes, anything of that nature where if I need it or want to store something for later – I can! On the plus side, the latch on this box is a lot better, probably a little too good since everytime I need it I have to tip it over and unlatch it and flip it back over to get it open.

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Other than that, I don’t really have any need for it, but like with every addiction I seem to have I can’t say no to it!


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My nana has sort of promised me that I was allowed to have a couple of my papaw’s cigar boxes too! So far I only have in possession of one box and this is very worn and it is from a company based in New York called “Nickelby” I kept wanting to say “Nickelback” everytime I saw it. I think the main difference between the first two and this box is that when this one was sold, it only cost 5 cents! My dad has a larger box for his cigars and it was about $80! In ways, I don’t want to know how much the others were before he brought them home to me!

After I came home with this and put it into my bookshelf, my dad became very jealous over the fact that I had an older box, one of my papaw’s or his dad’s boxes (we’re still not sure, because papaw didn’t smoke cigars!). When I told nana about how he was acting about it, she found another box and we gave it to him! He’s happy now!

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So what do you think? Do you collect any boxes or anything like that? 

snowflake

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Finding Ways To Be Independent.

When you have a child that has any kind of disability, you instantly try to make things easier for them as possible. Sometimes people go a little too far with this, almost to the point where they don’t have much of a choice in things that happens in their life. I have been a fairly independent person.  Even as a kid, I would literally scoot on my butt as fast as I could go to catch up with the others. I would do everything in my power to be like everybody else. This is why I was the one who figured out that I could feed myself. According to my mom, she had given me my plate and sat it on the floor by me with a fork ready for her, but she said she had turned away for a minute to grab something and found me with a fork in one foot and a piece of hot dog in my mouth. I’d say that’s impressive and that talent only grew to more things for me to master. Writing, drawing, grabbing, texting, typing and driving my wheelchair around. As the years grew on, I started learning more and more to the point where there was no end in sight.

If you’ve been reading my posts from a year ago, you know that I don’t understand why people think I’m inspiration. I never have. It’s not that I don’t think I’m special but I know everybody sees me doing everything with my feet and sees the disability first, that’s who they define me as. A handicapped person. I just have never felt like one, even when I was around other kids with disabilities. I know that’s kind of mean to say but I was mainly around kids who were able-bodied and just saw myself apart of them. In my middle school days, I realized how uncomfortable I was in my own skin. The other girls could wear flip-flops and high heels. I couldn’t wear my sneakers longer than ten minutes before I’d fling them over to the other side of the room. I hated shoes. I just mainly envied the popular girls by the fact that they could do sports and had the cute boyfriends. Nobody wanted me and I didn’t understand that. I think after graduating not only did I finally see not one, but many lights.

  • I was too into impressing people.
  • I am a handicapped person, whether I like it or not.
  • Unless things are set in stone, don’t expect anything.
  • Nobody stays longer than they’re needed to.

I’m happy to say that after four years I have realized all four of these things. I wish I could go back in time to see my younger self in middle school crying herself to sleep in the middle of the night and tell her that she’ll understand why she’s feeling these things and she’ll grow to love herself. I do love myself but I still don’t see myself as an inspiration. I feel like I never will honestly. The more I learn to do with my toes the more attention I tend to draw to myself. Some of it is good don’t get me wrong, I say all this but it doesn’t mean I’m not proud of myself for learning ways to potentially help me in the future if I was ever to move out of the house one day. My nana has been teaching me different things lately, some of these things I’ve actually never done before and I’ve ended up surprising the heck out of myself. One of these things I had to do today about five times. My nana gets meals from these people and they bring them in boxes. I usually help her sort and she does the boxes. Well, after watching her and she showing me how to do it, I finally figured out how to get both of my feet and legs to mind long enough and close the boxes. By the last two, I was a pro!

The other one, we do everytime I go over there. Unless it’s my dad taking me over there then he is the one that gets my drink for me. We haven’t been doing the new way for that long but I have been talking about it a lot because I have never been able to open up a pop can before. My grandparents are having trouble with the tips of their fingers and I remember one day asking if I could try to open the can because I think something was injured. She had this neat little screw that just hooks on and it’s got two sides, so in a way makes easy but yet difficult when you’re in a rush because you have to turn it around! Well, we’ve done this about seven or eight times now and I’m happy to say it only took me probably four minutes to get it open today. However, we did have to stop a couple of times because my nana was doing other things in the meantime. So it took me about four minutes to get it turned around and open it. Plus, I wanted to get some proof for you all and even though my feet are not in these pictures they are there making sure the stinking chair doesn’t move the can back and onto the floor. It was bad enough that my nana had gotten two separate straws because she kept sticking them in her drink. Thank god it was just water and not her hot tea. We didn’t want to lose the can either. That wouldn’t been pleasant!

We usually put them on the floor and she holds the can in between her feet but I thought the picture wouldn't come out right if we did it that way.
We usually put them on the floor and she holds the can in between her feet but I thought the picture wouldn’t come out right if we did it that way.
Sorry that it's kind of blurry, but this is what it looks like as I go to tip the black part down . I usually have to turn it around to the other side when it makes that nice little click sound.
Sorry that it’s kind of blurry, but this is what it looks like as I go to tip the black part down . I usually have to turn it around to the other side when it makes that nice little click sound.