I recently found this old pair of scissors. They don't look much, but I love them. I'd forgotten all about them and found them in a drawer.
They are old, but they're still surprisingly sharp and just right for certain little jobs. They used to belong to my Gran - she kept them in a glass pot on the mantlepiece ready for use, where everyone knew where to find them. I particularly remember using these scissors while she taught me to knit - a skill I'll always be grateful for.
Gran's not here anymore to see all the new things I've learnt with silver and although the scissors are no longer shiny, I'm glad I still have them.