Never too many
A Post a Day in May 25/31
They arrive into the house, some ordinary, some exceptional, but always welcome. After all, there can never be too many, right?
Cardboard boxes, folks. Not cats. Though cats are lovely, too. But I have definitely lived with too many — three, for a short period of time. I don’t advise being outnumbered by the four-legged ones in the house.
Now, cardboard boxes, they’re a different story. They arrive, often delivered by the evil “A” empire, holding something we’ve bought that seemed essential; these days, it’s cat food that I can find only rarely on the store shelves. But during my closet clean-out the other day, it was a bonanza of shoeboxes I came across. They are a sweet size, with a lid, and so useful for so many different things. The furthest corner of the basement is now a towering pile of cardboard boxes, all shapes, all sizes, crowned with the latest shoeboxes. I may have a problem, I know. But I feel compelled to keep them, to keep them all because, well, I never know when I might need one. And it’s not like they’re easy to find. They’re not. Especially not the perfect one, exactly when I need it.
So. Embarrassing or not, that pile in the basement will continue to grow. Until, one day, when even I know there are too many and, that day — that day, I will cull them, but I can guarantee you that I won’t recycle them all. Because, well, you know: I just might need one that shape, that size, at an unexpected moment.
Author’s confessional note: I have the same issue with gift bags, wrapping paper, and ribbon. I still have the box from Tiffany’s in New York City in which, almost 20 years, came the mug I bought (about the only thing in the store I could afford); I wonder If the perfect moment will ever arrive for passing it along to someone else. It is a thing of beauty, and I just love having it and, every now and again, looking at it and remembering that visit to Tiffany's. A box can hold many things, including memories, it seems.
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Land acknowledgement: I respectfully recognize that I live on the original lands of Anishinaabe, Cree, Oji-Cree, Dakota and Dene peoples, and on the homeland of the Métis Nation.
Photo by Nathana Rebouças on Unsplash
I could read this post to my daughter and tell her: see, I’m not the only one.
ReplyDeleteRecently, I freed my office from a few boxes and stored them in the carport.
Isabelle told me : what will you do with them ? I answered: I actually don’t know.
She said : isn’t recycling next week ? I said : I’m not yet ready
Danielle
In my case - your opening paragraph DOES apply to cats!
ReplyDeleteBut I can also identify with collecting cardboard boxes, and the two things go together. As a reluctant slave to Amazon myself, I bemoan the number of boxes coming in, only to be broken down and sent right out again into the recycle. As a dweller in a 16-unit apartment building, I see the same thing repeated amongst all the tenants. Two or three times a day, the boxes are dropped off in the entryway, then they disappear, and the flattened cardboard fills up the tall blue bins at the side of the building throughout the week.
I like to save the nicest boxes, piling them into my basement storage locker - "just in case". Because I've now used up all the real estate in that precious space, most of the boxes must go straight out to the blue bins.
But - with cats around - you can always allow some boxes to hang around for a few days as part of the playground equipment.