When the Safe Places are Really Safe...

The only thing I know about this cookie jar is that it belonged to my Great Grandma Walters. 

I've had it for twenty-five years or so and never once used it for its intended purpose. In one of our first apartments, we kept extra packs of taco sauce and ketchup in it. These days, it lives on an unreachable kitchen shelf for its own protection.

I think my favorite thing about it is the way that every inch of the glaze is crazed.

Look who I found when I opened it up to take the pictures --

 

Donald is, as far as I know, the only surviving toy from my husband's childhood. I assume that I put him in the cookie jar to protect him from little hands...and it worked. He's going back into his safe place which is going back on the high shelf. It's kept him in one piece for this long and I'll be darned if I let anything happen to him now!