I have fallen from grace. The other day Mrs Widds and I, went out and bought, yes, bought, moving boxes. The fact that they were made from 100% recycled material (that’s what it says on the box and we all know that signage and advertising never lies) and, that we only bought five, doesn’t alter this sad occasion.
With only two days to go before the golden moment when we see the moving truck pull up to our front door, it’s time to take a temporary leave of absence from the interwebz. After today I won’t have a desk to put my trusty desktop computer, or anything else, on top of!
I’ll still check in a bit via laptop. But, this is it folks. Next time you hear from me I’ll be, Widders of the Lake!
One day I want a spirit-room like this:
“The only really firm rule of taste about cross-dressing is that neither sex should ever wear anything they haven’t yet figured out how to go to the bathroom in” – P. J. O’Rourke
Once a month the clan of Box Collectors gather on certain street corners. They dress for the occasion. Comfortable shoes, with casual shirts and pants. They’re sprinkled with a hint of dust dragon, that reminds any passers-by of antiquated libraries and the deepest corners of long-neglected wardrobes.
What they do is a time honoured ritual. Into a shop they go, and head straight for the crate of empty boxes. Back on the street they nod companionably to other Box Collectors as they juggle their collection of boxes, and weave their way home.
Even when they aren’t collecting boxes that month, Box Collectors always acknowledge those of their clan who are. A wry smile is exchanged, perhaps a few words of sympathy or encouragement, sometimes about the weather, sometimes about the iniquities of having to pack the empty boxes with their possessions for their move, because as we all know Box Collectors are a transient lot.
“A box without hinges, keys, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid” – J.R.R. Tolkien – from the riddle game Bilbo and Gollum play when they first meet. What was the answer, and who gave it?