Pinky has more boxes than anyone I know.
They are not organized. I mention that because one would think that if someone went to the trouble of putting so many things in so many boxes that they would be.
But they’re not.
The boxes are all over the place.
Some are quite old.
Some have utility bills in them from another time and place.
Some have keepsakes.
You never know what’s in them until you open them.
Pinky is working on her boxes now as she realizes that there are too many of them
and that some of them are going bad like old fridge fruit.
She sits in the garage at night with the light on and goes through them.
I think it is a rather tender sight.
Now I feel emotional over all her boxes.